5 Times Merlin Surprised People
by sarajm
Summary: Merlin is not the useless idiot that he is assumed to be. This collection will explore times when Merlin surprises people with skills they do not expect him to have. Part 1: Kindness, Part 2: Languages, Part 3: Hard-working
1. Kindness

**Summary:** Merlin is not the useless idiot that he is assumed to be. This is the first chapter in the collection 'Five Times Merlin Surprised People with Unexpected Skills'

This collection of stories has been on my to-do list for quite some time. The basic idea of Merlin having unsuspected talents was what originally spawned my 'Harmony' story, but I had some other ideas I also wanted to explore.

Beta'd by LyricalSinger as always. Thanks also to Lyric and to Moon Fox for brainstorming on some (many!) of the plot points.

Note: rating will likely change for future chapters.

* * *

 **Chapter 1 - Kindness**

"Who is this Lord again?" asked Merlin as he hoisted up a bag from the floor of the entrance hall. "And why exactly is your father so intent on impressing him?"

"His name is Lord Garrick, and he is the Regent King of the lands between our eastern border and the ocean," answered Arthur. "So he controls the main trade route to the port. Father wants to renew Camelot's access agreement with him."

"Ahh," said Merlin as, shifting the heavy bag to a more comfortable position, he took a step towards the stairway. The young servant still did not see why that made this King any more important than any other noble that came to visit. The man must be formidable if he had Uther bowing and scraping though.

Before Merlin could take another step, Arthur cleared his throat and pointed towards two large trunks and several more bags pushed up against the wall. "You'll need to take those up too," he said.

" _All_ of them?" complained Merlin. "Is his entire _army_ staying in those chambers _?_ He's only meant to be here for four days."

"Uh, no… it's just him and his father, King Ulmer," chuckled Arthur, "but Kings rarely travel light."

Or Regent Kings either, whatever those were, Merlin surmised with a scowl. He guessed that a 'Regent' was an heir that was beginning to take on more Royal duties; probably the King was getting quite elderly or something. He'd ask Arthur more about it later if he remembered. Right now he could only shake his head in dismay at the waiting pile of luggage and try to decide if it was better to attempt to pick up another of the bags, or to make more trips.

"And Merlin," Arthur called as he headed towards the Great Hall to greet the visiting Royals, "make sure you don't break anything. Lord Garrick is notoriously short tempered!"

"Oh _great,"_ Merlin grumbled under his breath, putting the second bag he'd hefted back down lest he drop it. "Just what I need, _another_ self-important noble telling me how useless I am."

* * *

"Lord Garrick, welcome to Camelot," said King Uther, clasping the arm of a middle-aged man who stood in front of the throne. "Arthur, come and meet my old foster brother," he added warmly as the Prince came into the room.

"Thank you, Uther," Lord Garrick answered, greeting first the King and then nodding towards Arthur as the Prince come up beside them. "It's been some time since I was last here, but the city is as beautiful as I remember it."

"Yes, little has changed since then, although the gardens have certainly benefitted from the roses gifted by your Lady Mother all those years ago," Uther said. "I was sorry to hear of her passing last spring," he added after a pause.

Garrick nodded, "It has been a difficult time. As you know, she was well loved by everyone and my father has never really recovered from his grief."

"I had guessed that was the reason for your being named Regent," admitted Uther. "How is King Ulmer? I saw him ride in with you. Is that a sign that he is improving?" he asked hopefully.

Lord Garrick gave a sad shake of his head. "I fear not. Although he is still whole of body, my father's mind remains trapped in the past. However, he wished to make the trip and I saw no reason to deny him, though he will be unable to participate in our talks."

Garrick smiled fondly, "He remembers more of you, these days, than of me, Uther. He seems to be dwelling back in the time you were his fosterling and so I am often made to relive many of our youthful exploits."

Arthur looked from one man to the other with a smile of his own. He hoped he would get a chance to ask Garrick about some of his father's childhood misadventures.

"Well, I do hope you are avoiding the punishments for them this time around," said Uther with a nostalgic chuckle. "But where is Ulmer now? Would you like me to have someone assigned to stay with him?" the King asked, wanting to be sure that he had done everything he could to ensure the comfort of his beloved foster father.

"No Uther, he should be fine," said Garrick. "One of my knights is watching over him and has taken him out to the gardens; he would not enter the castle until he had seen them again. He is in good hands."

Uther smiled with relief, "I apologize if these discussions are ill-timed for you," he said, "But with the unrest in Odin's Kingdom, I thought it prudent to make a show of strength by reinforcing our alliance. It will also let us plan an expansion of our security measures over the supply routes to the coast."

"I would not have made the journey if I did not agree with you, Uther," said Garrick, "and as I have only three days, I am ready to get started immediately."

"Excellent," said Uther, stepping down from the dais, and gesturing to Arthur and Lord Garrick to precede him towards the door. "I've had the maps brought into the Council Chambers. We can begin by updating those. After lunch, we can have our advisors join us to get into the details."

* * *

Merlin _hated_ hauling around luggage. If there was ever a chore begging to be helped by magic, this was surely it; well, this and mucking out the horses. He thought for a moment about trying a weight-lessening spell that he'd recently learned, but quickly and reluctantly discarded that idea. He was still not able to control the amount of power he put into his incantations, and when he'd tried that particular spell in the privacy of his chambers, his socks had ended up floating on the ceiling for hours.

In the end, it took the young servant five separate trips to bring everything up the four flights of stairs to the suite of rooms that had been prepared for Lord Garrick and his father.

Once he'd lugged in and deposited the last trunk, Merlin straightened up with a sigh, rolling his shoulders and his back to get out the kinks. He took a last look around the room to make sure everything was neatly arranged before deciding that he could go back to his own chambers and get some lunch. He'd already tidied Arthur's room, so the Prince would not need him until the evening. He would have plenty of time to do some work for Gaius and maybe even practice some spells before then.

As he passed by the Council chambers, where no doubt Arthur was already holed up with his father along with the King and his Regent, Merlin felt a pang of hurt. Another sigh escaped the warlock as again as he recalled exactly _why_ he had so much time on his hands.

 _He'd_ thought he'd been carrying his new duties as Arthur's servant quite well. Sure, Arthur teased him about how bad a servant he was, but Merlin had learned a _lot_ about courtly manners in the short time he'd been at the job. Besides the usual household chores that he'd done since childhood, he now knew where to stand while he poured wine; what all of the cutlery was for and where to position it; he knew when to clear away the dishes to make room for the next course – all things that never mattered in Ealdor, although they seemed extremely important here. Merlin also knew how to stand respectfully when attending Arthur during meetings, though admittedly he did not always bother with this. He'd also learned that caring for armour and warhorses was more complicated than he'd ever thought possible.

But apparently he was still not deemed worthy of even being in the _presence_ of whomever Lord Garrick and King Ulmer were.

"Arthur, your manservant is not allowed into the Great Hall, or any other place that would put him near our guests," Uther had announced earlier that morning. "I can't risk the clumsy buffoon spilling the wine or dropping a plate on them," the King had added, shooting a glare at the dark-haired servant. "There is too much at stake."

That had hurt and Merlin thought it was entirely unjustified. He hardly ever made mistakes like that anymore. The boy had wondered again exactly _who_ these men were, that Uther did not even want him in the same room. After all, Merlin had served Arthur plenty of times during visits from other nobles, and some of _them_ had been Kings too.

What was even worse though, was that rather than stick up for him, Arthur had laughed and even _agreed_ with his father.

But there was no sense in dwelling on it. At least Merlin was getting some free time out of the situation. He'd had precious little of _that_ since he'd arrived in Camelot.

* * *

After having a lunch where he was actually able to sit at the table to eat, Merlin headed out to do some deliveries for Gaius. He'd just dropped off the last of his bottles and bounded up the steps to the castle, when he saw an elderly man ahead of him; he'd obviously just entered the castle and was looking around in confusion. Merlin did not recognize him, but the quality and colours of his clothing marked him as one of the visiting nobles; probably the elderly father of one of the knights, who had been brought along for a sort of vacation.

"Oh there you are," said the old man, causing Merlin's brows to rise in surprise at having been addressed. "Have you been outside with Garrick?"

The mention of Regent King confirmed that the man was from the group of visitors, but Merlin also realized that the old man was not quite living in the present. He'd seen such a thing in some of Gaius' most elderly patients, and knew that the malady could not be cured. The best treatment seemed to be to play along when the memories were happy, and above all to keep a close watch on the patient, to ensure they did not wander away in their confusion and get lost.

After looking around the large entrance hall and confirming that the man's caretaker was nowhere to be seen, Merlin concluded that the elderly knight must have done just that. He quickly decided that he had better stay with the man until whoever was in charge of him came looking.

Giving a smile to the old knight, who was obviously seeing in him one of his young squires or fosterlings from many years ago, Merlin said, "Yes Sir, but he had to go and see to his horse, so I was coming to find you."

"Were you, then?" said the knight with a laugh, "Coming to hear some stories of valour and conquest, I'd wager."

Merlin took the old man by the arm and led him over to one of the benches by a large window overlooking the courtyard. "Oh yes, please. One with a battle and victory," he added, trying to imitate the child that the knight must have mistaken him for.

"Very well then, though your foster mother will have my head if I keep you from your chores," the man said, though his twinkling eyes showed that he was not overly concerned about the possibility.

Soon the knight was enthusiastically telling his story while Merlin sat with mouth open, as though in childish wonder and excitement. Truth be told, the young servant _was_ enjoying the tale; the old man may have been lost in his memories, but he was a good storyteller regardless.

It was midafternoon when a knight a few years older than Arthur rushed frantically up the steps, coming to a sudden stop when he saw the old man happily talking to the dark-haired servant. "Thank the Gods," the newcomer said quietly to Merlin after making his way over to the bench. "I've been searching half of Camelot for him. One moment he was walking beside me in the gardens, and the next thing I know he's disappeared.."

Merlin smiled at the man, "Don't worry; I guessed what had happened, and it was my pleasure to look out for him."

"Sir Clifford!" the old knight said to the newcomer, "Did you have a nice walk? I've been telling a story to my foster son here, but it is time for us all to get back to work I think."

The young knight looked at Merlin with an apologetic smile before turning back to his charge, "Yes My Lord, I will take you there right away," he said, taking the old man by the arm and helping him to stand.

Turning back to Merlin, Sir Clifford whispered gratefully, "Thank you for watching him," before heading over to the stairway leading into the living quarters of the castle.

* * *

Sir Clifford smiled as he watched his elderly charge. The old man was happier and more animated than Clifford had seen him in some time, and had told him all about the wonderful afternoon that he'd spent with his foster son.

It took the young knight some effort to sort between his charge's memories and his actual afternoon activities, but Clifford easily concluded that the young servant who had found the elderly man was the main reason for his happiness.

While he was reflecting, the door opened and Lord Garrick walked into the room.

"Clifford, how fares my father?" the Regent King asked, looking over to where the elderly man was now sitting at one of the window seats absorbed in one of the books that someone, probably Uther, had thoughtfully left on the desk.

"The King is very well, Sire," Sir Clifford answered. "He… had a bit of an adventure… or rather _I_ did," he added hesitantly.

Garrick looked at him questioningly. "Did he? What do you mean?"

"Well, he gave me the slip for a time," Clifford admitted. "But it worked out very well in the end, as one of Camelot's servants found him and entertained him all afternoon. The boy has done your father a world of good today."

That brought a grin to the Regent King's face. "Then bringing him to Camelot was the right decision," he said.

* * *

The dinner that evening was a quiet and private meal, with only Uther, Arthur, Garrick and Ulmer in attendance. The King wished to spend some time with his old foster father, even knowing that the man would likely not even remember him.

"How are your chambers?" Uther asked Garrick as an efficient young servant filled his cup of wine. The King briefly noted that _this_ servant had barely been noticeable during the meal, fading into the background as was only proper. However, Uther did have a moment of regret that his son's dark-haired manservant was not present. The boy was undeniably terrible at his job, but it was often quite amusing to watch him muddle through. The expressions on the young man's face when he made mistakes were almost worth the trouble those same mistakes caused, depending on whom the victim was of course.

"They are well very well appointed," the Regent answered, "And it was good of you to remember my father's love of books. He has already read through two of the ones that were left on the desk."

Uther smiled. He had many fond memories of Ulmer's love of stories and storytelling, having spent many nights listening in rapt attention to after-dinner tales when he was a young child. "It was no problem, my son selected those personally. He is much more of a reader than I ever was."

Arthur almost choked on the wine he'd just swallowed, feeling slightly guilty for having delegated the book-selection task to Merlin. His manservant _loved_ to read, and had chattered endlessly on about the merits of the different books he'd added to the pile on Arthur's desk the previous day. "Yes, I sent over some of my favourites," the Prince finally said, although in reality he had no idea what stories had actually been provided.

"Good stories, they were. Good stories," put in Ulmer, "Would you like to hear one? I could tell it. Yes, perhaps the one about the unicorn, now how did that go?"

Garrick patted the old King's hand, "Perhaps later on, father," he said. "We are still finishing our dinner."

"And I would like to know if you enjoyed your visit to the gardens," said Uther kindly.

"Oh yes, the gardens, they were lovely," said Ulmer, "and my wife loved them too." He looked around in confusion. "Now, where did she go to?" he asked.

Garrick shared a sad smile with Arthur and Uther before turning back to his father. "I believe she has gone back to our chambers," he said. "Would you like me to have Sir Clifford bring you there?"

"Yes, I should go to her," Ulmer said, "She does not like to be alone."

* * *

Once King Ulmer had been led out of the room, Uther sighed. "It is difficult indeed to see him in this state," he said. "He was such a powerful figure in my childhood memories."

Garrick gave a nod of agreement, "I brought him to Camelot in hopes that it would cheer him up. He loves this city." Turning to Arthur he added, "And he always had quite a soft spot for your father, though I'm not sure why. Uther caused his fair share of trouble, unlike me who was always a model Prince."

The three men laughed and Garrick said, "He has been happier today than I have seen him for many months, Uther."

"Oh? Well, I am glad to hear it," said the King.

"Yes, Sir Clifford told me that once they'd returned from the gardens, a kind young man sat and listened to his stories for most of the rest of the afternoon," Garrick explained. "I think Father thought it was you he was talking to, Uther."

The King chuckled, but at the same time felt a pang of sadness. In some ways he wished it _could_ have been him sitting and listening to the man. But since that would have been impossible, he was very grateful to whoever had taken the time to make an old man happy.

* * *

Merlin woke the next morning to a beautiful, warm and sunny day. He hoped that he would have some chores that took him outside the castle; something other than mucking out the horses, that was. He also admitted to himself that his real reason for wanting to be away from the castle had very little to do with the weather. The young servant simply did not want to be faced with whoever had taken his place – the 'better' servant. He knew he was being petulant about it all, but could not chase away his feelings of disappointment and self-doubt.

The young servant got his wish sooner than he'd expected.

"Merlin, I'm running low on many of my herbs," Gaius said as they ate their breakfast. "Since you've got reduced duties for Arthur today, would you mind going to the gardens to restock them?"

"Sure, Gaius," Merlin answered with relief. "I've got to bring Arthur his breakfast and clean up his room, but after that I'll be free for most of the day. It's probably a good time to get some of the ones that are further afield too, if you'd like."

* * *

"Rise and Shine, your Royal Pratishness," called out Merlin with a forced cheerfulness as he flung open the curtains in the Prince's chambers.

Not hearing any immediate answer, the young servant walked over to the large bed where Arthur was still lying asleep, and grasping the Prince's pillow, yanked it right out from under his head.

"Wha?…. Why are you here so early?" Arthur asked, holding tightly to the edge of his pillow, which he'd managed to catch hold of before Merlin had gotten it clear of the bed. "I don't have any training this morning, and I don't have to be in the Council Chambers for _hours,_ " he complained.

"Well, I need to collect some things for Gaius," Merlin said, relinquishing his hold on the pillow now that he'd seen a sign of life from Arthur. "So I need to finish up in here straight away." The servant went back to the table where he'd put the breakfast tray, and poured out a cup of tea. "Unless you have some other duties for me of course," he added.

"No, no, go ahead," said Arthur with a yawn as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and pushed himself into something resembling upright. "I do envy you though, being outside in the sun rather than stuck in a stuffy room with a bunch of statesmen."

Merlin handed the Prince his tea. "I'm definitely intending to drop soup on your father the next time I see him," he said, trying his best to use his usual teasing tone. "I quite _like_ being banned from having to stand behind you all day long."

"Oh, so your clumsiness is all a ploy, is it?" Arthur asked. "I'll bet you turn into a model servant, come winter."

Merlin smiled back at the Prince from where he was already busy pushing a broom, but Arthur had somehow managed to pick up on his servant's real mood.

"Merlin, Lord Garrick is only here for a few days and then things will go back to usual," the Prince said, all trace of their usual banter gone.

The young servant lowered his eyes to the floor as though trying to locate some dust bunny that he'd missed, "And by then I'm _sure_ you'll be more than ready to have me embarrassing you with my peasant ways while you are in the company of _important_ people," he said. Although Merlin again tried for teasing, this time there was no mistaking the hurt in the retort.

"My father was wrong, Merlin," Arthur said softly, "You are doing just fine given the short time you've been at this job. But King Ulmer fostered my father for many years – and so my father is particularly touchy about anyone who serves him while he is visiting. He wants it to be _perfect_."

"Oh, I didn't know that," said Merlin looking up sharply at the information.

"Yes, and to be honest you are better off out of my father's sight just now, just in case any … _incident_ … did happen," said Arthur. "Not that it would of course," he added quickly.

Arthur's obvious concern finally brought a real smile to Merlin's face, "You could be right," he said. "I guess it's just as well I have something that will keep me away for the day."

* * *

Only a short time later Merlin was in the large gardens. They were just outside the castle walls, not far from the main gates to the courtyard.

The young servant always liked to start his collecting in the eastern corner where Gaius had cultivated the herbs that appreciated shady conditions. By midmorning he'd already brought two large sacks of mint, comfrey and thyme back to the Physician's quarters.

After cleaning them and setting them out to dry, Merlin had an early lunch and headed back to the gardens. This time he aimed for the sunny southern section just near the roses, since that's where the verbena and lavender were growing.

Before bending to his task, the young servant closed his eyes, turning in a slow circle and breathing in deeply the beautiful scent of the roses. This section of the garden was his favourite. Opening his eyes once more, he allowed himself a few minutes to appreciate the beauty of the many colourful blossoms around him.

Merlin had always found it strange how such a warrior King as Uther could have such a soft spot for flowers. But, just now, with the sun on his face and the birds singing in the trees around him, the young warlock decided it didn't much matter, and was only glad for the anomaly.

With a last smile and deep breath, he knelt down to begin his harvesting.

Merlin had only picked about half of a bag when the sound of cursing just on the other side of the pink rose bushes he was working near made him jump up in alarm. He'd been so concentrated on his herb collecting that he had not noticed that other people had come into this area of the garden.

The cursing was immediately followed by the sound of a hand striking flesh several times in succession, and the young servant decided he'd better go and investigate.

"What have you done, Clifford?" Merlin heard a familiar voice ask just as he rounded the bush. There ahead of him were the elderly noble and the knight he'd come across the previous day.

"Oh, good afternoon my boy. Best slow yourself down," said the old man when he noticed Merlin rushing up to them. "I think Sir Clifford has had a bit of a run-in with a wasp, and I would not want you stung too," he added, nodding towards the young knight who was cradling his arm and scowling.

"It was more like fifty wasps," Clifford said in anger, or perhaps embarrassment. "I must have disturbed a nest when I tried to pick the flower he wanted."

Merlin frowned. "Here, let me take a look," he offered.

Clifford hesitated for a moment, not knowing what a servant or gardener or whatever this boy was could possibly do for him. Merlin's concern along with the care he'd given Ulmer the day earlier soon won out over his doubts and the knight held his arm out.

Merlin gently but quickly raised Sir Clifford's sleeve and turned the arm slightly, peering intently at the area where most of the stings were located. "I'd say you were right about it being fifty wasps," the young servant said looking back up at the knight. "And judging by how fast this is swelling, you may be having some sort of reaction. Have you ever had a bad encounter with a bee or wasp before?"

"No, I don't think so," said Clifford, wincing as the throbbing in his arm began to intensify.

Merlin noticed the knights increased pain and lowered the sleeve again carefully. "That's good, but you need to go and see Gaius, our physician, to treat it," he said. "The amount of poison from that many stings should not be taken lightly."

Clifford hesitated, glancing over to where the elderly knight was wandering happily among the nearby roses. "I cannot leave him on his own," he whispered to Merlin reluctantly. "I'll have to take care of it once he goes for supper."

"I don't mind staying with him," Merlin volunteered. "I'll have plenty of time to finish up this herb-collecting for Gaius once you return."

Sir Clifford looked up hopefully, "Are you sure?" he asked, "I would not want to get you in trouble with your master over _my_ clumsiness."

"That's okay," the young servant answered wistfully. "I'm already in trouble because of my _own_. Actually, that's why I'm out here today rather than attending to him in the castle."

The knight raised his eyebrows in surprise. He had a hard time imagining that the youth would be the type to fail in his duties. Although he had only interacted with the boy twice, that had been enough for Clifford to see that the servant was both competent and quick-witted. Most telling of all was how much King Ulmer had enjoyed the previous afternoon. In spite of his failing mind, the elderly man would never have suffered the company of a dullard.

The young knight would have liked to learn more but his arm was now throbbing so fiercely that it almost brought tears to his eyes. "Well thank you for your help," he said, deciding to put his questions on hold, and after checking that Ulmer was still busy enjoying the garden Sir Clifford hurried back towards the castle.

* * *

Merlin set down his herb bags in a place where they'd be safe until he could collect them later on, and caught up to the old knight. "These are my favourites in the entire garden," the young servant said, bending close to the pink roses that Ulmer was admiring, and breathing in their sweet scent.

The elderly man smiled, "You have the same fancy as your foster mother then, my boy," he said, obviously slipping back into his memories. "I am not much surprised. You always do seem to share her tastes."

"Or perhaps she shares mine," Merlin answered with a grin. Although the young servant had never even learned the elderly knight's name, his previous afternoon with the man left him certain that the knight appreciated good-natured teasing. A soft chuckling told Merlin that he wasn't wrong about it.

* * *

When Sir Clifford finally returned, it was to find Merlin and Ulmer sitting at one of the tables set up in the middle of the garden. The young knight paused before they saw him, and was amazed to find his King laughing heartily at some riddle that the young servant had just stumped him with. It gladdened Clifford's heart to see the old man happy. It had been an exceedingly rare occurrence since his wife had died.

"I'm sorry to have taken so long," Clifford said to Merlin as he joined them at the table. "Your physician would not let me leave until he was sure the swelling was going down."

Merlin smiled, "Yes, that sounds like Gaius," he said. "He's very thorough."

"Have you returned from patrol already, Sir Clifford?" asked Ulmer, obviously having forgotten where his knight had been. "Well that's fortunate, because I think it is time to head back into the castle. I need to check that my son is not hiding away from his duties," he added, pushing himself to his feet.

"Certainly, my Lord," Clifford answered, standing quickly in order to take the old man by the arm. "Thank you for taking care of him for me," he whispered to Merlin as the young servant also rose from the table.

"Come along young man," Lord Ulmer ordered when he noticed that Merlin was not joining the nobles as they started along the path towards the castle. "I'm sure you've also got your chores to do, as much as I know you love to hide away in the gardens."

Merlin smiled back at the old man, "Yes, I promise I will be along in a few moments," he said.

"Well, see that you are," Ulmer said with a chuckle, before allowing himself to be led on his way.

Sir Clifford turned back to see that the young servant was watching them leave, a look of wistfulness on his face. The knight remembered that the young man been barred from serving his master in the castle and wondered again at the reason. He guessed it could not be anything too dire, or the boy would have been punished or dismissed outright, and not simply reassigned.

* * *

Lord Garrick entered his chambers after a long day of discussions to find his father laughing as he related something to Sir Clifford.

"Hello Father, it's good to see you so cheerful," Garrick said, taking the glass of wine that Clifford held out to him. He took an appreciative sip before walking over towards the fireplace, where he took one of the comfortable chairs near Ulmer.

"Ho, I've been wondering when you would come home," the old man said with a twinkle in his eye. "Skipping out on your chores and leaving them all to your foster brother, I see," he added teasingly.

Garrick shot a look of confusion over to Clifford, before turning back to his father. "Yes, Sire, you know me too well," he said with a smile.

As Ulmer prattled on about riddles and roses, the Regent King beckoned Sir Clifford over. "Foster brother?" he whispered.

"Your father has spent the afternoon with the same young man as looked after him yesterday," the Knight whispered back. "The boy is not a noble, though. I believe he is some sort of servant to the physician, and quite bright from what I've seen."

Ulmer evidently caught the last part, "Ah that boy. Such a wit!" he laughed. "I've not had such a pleasant test in many a day. No wonder your mother dotes so on him."

Lord Garrick chuckled and turned back toward Clifford, "A servant, you say? I wonder if the physician would give him up," he asked. "Any man who can bring my father this much pleasure is worth his weight in gold."

The young knight nodded thoughtfully. "You know, he may be willing," he said. "The boy was in the gardens as a punishment, from what I understand. Perhaps he's not suited to the tasks he has here."

"That would be fortunate for us," Garrick said. "Let us look into it, Clifford."

* * *

Merlin yawned as he made his way up the steps into the castle. He was looking forward to getting back to his chambers and getting into some clean, dry clothes. Once he had finished in the castle gardens, he had trekked out to a nearby bog to search for some of Gaius's rarer supplies. As usual though, getting his hands on them came with a bit of a price, and now the young servant was soaked from head to toe with the foul-smelling swamp water.

He hoisted his heavy sack and gave a smile. Even though he was still upset about having been barred from serving Arthur, all in all his day had been a good one.

A sudden commotion in the entry hall made Merlin look up quickly, and to his surprise the old knight that he seemed to keep coming across was hobbling as quickly as he could manage towards him, a look of concern on his face.

"My boy, what's happened to you?" the man asked. "Have you been hurt?"

Merlin smiled warmly, "No, My Lord, I'm just a little wet is all. In fact, I'm just on my way to get changed."

"Good lad," said the old man with relief, "Then you had best hurry. Dinner starts very shortly."

As Merlin had expected, Sir Clifford was following closely behind his elderly charge, and soon joined them. The knight smiled at Merlin when he reached them, although Merlin was getting quite embarrassed at being addressed by the nobles while he was in such a filthy state.

The young servant's discomfort turned into outright alarm when a tall, elegant man, who had up until then been blocked from Merlin's view, also made his way over to the three. "Well Clifford, is this the young man who has been keeping my father so well entertained?" the newcomer asked.

The blood drained from Merlin's face so quickly that he began to feel dizzy, for this man could surely be none other than Lord Garrick. That meant that the old knight who Merlin had been looking after was Ki…. Ki…. _King Ulmer!_ The very men he'd been so firmly ordered to stay away from.

A sudden buzzing in his ears prevented him from fully hearing Sir Clifford's confirmation. "Yes, Sire, this is the lad I've been telling you about."

"Very good," smiled the Regent King and turning back to address Merlin, Garrick said, "My boy, I had hoped to have a word with your Master. When would be a good time to do so?"

Merlin frowned in confusion, wondering for a moment why the Regent King wanted to speak with Arthur when he had already been with the Prince for most of the day. But as his shock wore off, the young warlock felt quite silly when he realized that Garrick could have no idea who his master was.

Merlin decided that it would be much wiser to keep things that way, at least until he could explain to Arthur that meeting the visiting Royals had been accidental. "Well, Sire, I would hate to make you late for your dinner," he said, "so if you like, I could bring him to your quarters later tonight or maybe after you've had your breakfast tomorrow."

"Garrick, leave the boy alone," cut in King Ulmer crossly, before his son could answer Merlin. "Can you not see how cold and wet he is?"

"That's alright, Sire," said Merlin, smiling affectionately at the old man. The Regent King gave Clifford an approving look when Ulmer immediately responded with a smile of his own. Merlin continued, "I promise I'm on my way to clean up now."

Once he was sure that Ulmer had calmed, Merlin turned back to Garrick, hoping he could quickly take his leave before anyone saw him talking to the Regent King. Unfortunately, before he had a chance to excuse himself, he heard the voice of the person he'd most wanted to avoid.

The young servant spun, and to his absolute dismay he saw Arthur coming up the steps leading into the castle. Worse still, the Prince was not alone. Uther was right behind his son. Merlin stood rooted to the spot. It crossed his mind that he should run before Arthur and the King noticed him, but it was already far too late for that.

Just as Merlin had expected, it was only moments before Uther caught sight of him. The King's initial surprise at seeing the bedraggled and dripping young servant right in middle of the party of visiting Royal's rapidly turned into anger.

Uther advanced on the horrified boy and Merlin could not prevent himself from edging away from the King in self-defence. Unfortunately, in his haste to get away, the servant backed straight into Lord Garrick, causing the Regent King to stop him from going further by placing his hands on the boy's shoulders.

At the sudden contact, Merlin tried to turn in order to see what was blocking him, but this only made him slip due to his wet boots. The servant ended up falling on the floor right at Garrick's feet, dropping his very full sack of herbs on the way down. Merlin made a grab as the bag began to tilt, but he only managed to push it over that much faster. Soon half of the contents were on the floor with most of the herbs covering Garrick's and Uther's boots.

"You!" shouted Uther, reaching over and grabbing Merlin by the collar, hauling him to his feet. "How DARE you disobey me!"

"I'm so sorry, Sire," stammered Merlin. "It was all an accident. I was just on my way to Gaius' chambers, and they were here, and I didn't know…" he trailed off. Uther was not listening, not that Merlin expected any differently.

"Now look what you've done!" the King continued to rage, giving Merlin a shake. "This is _exactly_ the type of disaster I expected to avoid. You should be nowhere near this hall while Lord Garrick and King Ulmer are present."

"Father, he _said_ he ran into them when he was coming through the hall on his way home," Arthur pitched in, taking his servant by the arm and moving him away from the irate King. "He did nothing wrong. And it's just a bit of dirt on the floor," he added. "I'm sure Merlin will have it cleaned up again in no time. _Won't_ you Merlin?"

"Yes, yes, straight away," said the servant shrugging Arthur off and bending to start collecting up the fallen plants. He purposely avoided looking at anyone as he worked, and hoped they would all just leave.

However, the herb-covered boots made no immediate move. "You'd better get every last leaf, you clumsy oaf," Uther said to him between clenched teeth. "And as a reward for your blatant disobedience, once you are finished here, don't expect to see the outside of the dungeons for at least a month."

Merlin's heart sunk. "Yes, Sire. I understand," he whispered, although he really didn't. It was so unfair. How had he been supposed to know that the elderly man with the failing memory had been the visiting King?

The servant sighed in resignation. If he'd only kept away from Lord Ulmer earlier, the elderly man would not have had any reason to seek him out in the hall just now, and Merlin would have avoided any punishment. But he knew in his heart that even if he had known Ulmer's real identity, the man had needed his help, and so Merlin would not in good conscience have done anything differently.

"Father, a month?" he heard Arthur ask. "That's a bit excessive for spilling a bag of plants…and what am I meant to do without my manservant for all that time?"

Merlin winced. He was touched that the Prince was trying to intervene, but suspected that Uther would not appreciate being contradicted in front of his guests.

"Get a proper one, is what!" shouted Uther, proving Merlin right. "Arthur, you and he should be thankful that I have not sacked him on the spot. And if I hear another word on it, I may still do so."

With that the King decided that he'd had enough of the young servant's presence, and without waiting for Merlin to finish collecting up his herbs, the King shouted "Guards!" gesturing to the pair of sentries who were standing by the entryway to the castle.

"Uther, I don't think this is necessary..." said Lord Garrick, trying to stop the King from punishing the servant. It appeared that the boy had been ordered to keep away from the Regent King, in which case Garrick considered himself at fault. After all he had been the one to seek Merlin out, and not the other way around. "It was I ..." he began to explain, but got no further because his father had also decided to object, and much more dramatically as it turned out.

"Stop!" cried out the old man. "What do you think you are you doing?" he asked as the two guards closed in on Merlin. "Stop this moment or I will have you relieved of your duties," he said in the voice of command that he'd honed over a long lifetime.

The guards hesitated and looked to Uther who impatiently gestured at them to continue. In the King's opinion, the sooner the blasted boy was out of sight the better it would be for everyone.

When Ulmer saw that the guards were still intent on restraining … he could not quite recall the boy's name … he decided to take matters into his own hands. Shaking off Sir Clifford, who was supporting the old man by the elbow, Ulmer began to hobble towards the guards. "You will not touch him!" shouted Ulmer, shaking his fists in anger and giving hard push to the guard who was closest to reaching Merlin.

The motion was enough to destabilize the elderly King, and Ulmer fell heavily to the ground where he lay in confusion, having forgotten how he'd come to be there.

"Lord Ulmer!" cried out Uther. "Help him up you idiots," he snapped at the guards who had stopped their advance and were standing unsure of what to do next.

"No, stop" called Merlin urgently when one of the two guards reached down with the intention of pulling the old man upright. "He may be hurt. Let me check him over before you let him get up."

Merlin was seemingly unaware that he was ordering about three Kings and a Prince, not to mention a knight and two palace guards. The young servant only had thoughts for the old man lying on the floor.

"Stay away from him," Uther objected, moving to block Merlin's hurried advance and reaching down with the intention of helping Ulmer himself.

"No!" cried the old man, holding up his hands to ward Uther off. "I want the boy. Only he may come near."

Uther stopped and shot an incredulous look back at Garrick.

The Regent King shrugged, "Yes Uther, that's what I was about to tell you. The boy has been helping Clifford with my father these last days and has established some sort of bond with him. I was rather hoping I could steal the lad away from Camelot, as I have not seen my father so engaged and happy in a very long while."

Uther turned back towards his prone foster father and could only watch in amazement as Merlin smiled and spoke soothingly to the old man. The servant quickly and competently patted down Ulmer's legs and arms, testing for injury, and asked some questions that Uther knew would help detect any hurt to the man's head. The King could not deny that regardless of how Ulmer had come about meeting the boy, the two were fond of each other and Arthur's servant knew what he was doing.

Finally Merlin looked up at Garrick and Uther and said, "He seems to be fine, though maybe it would be best if you have Gaius take a look."

Garrick nodded and beckoned to Sir Clifford who was looking on in concern.

Merlin offered a smile of reassurance to the young knight and turned back towards Lord Ulmer. "Are you ready to get up, My Lord?" he asked.

"Yes, my boy," the elderly man answered, glaring at Uther who had taken a couple of steps forward, intending to offer his hand.

The King halted his advance although he stayed ready to jump in, lest the clumsy manservant not be up to the task.

He needn't have worried. Merlin expertly placed his hands behind Ulmer's shoulders and then at his elbows. This gave the old man not only the support he needed, but also a measure of dignity, allowing the old King to stand mainly under his own power. All the while the boy continued to smile and speak kindly.

"Father, Sir Clifford is going to bring you for a small visit to the physician's chambers," Garrick said, as Merlin relinquished his hold to the young knight. "You must remember Gaius," he added, "So I am sure you will enjoy having a talk with him."

"Gaius?" asked Lord Ulmer, his eyebrows crinkling as he tried to remember why the name sounded familiar. "Oh yes, _Gaius_!" he said with a smile. "Are we in Camelot then? Is he not Uther's physician?" At Garrick's nod of confirmation, the old man continued, "Such a nice young man he is. Yes, I should like to visit with him."

As Sir Clifford began to lead him away, Ulmer stopped and turned back towards Merlin. "Young man," he said sternly, "I shan't be gone very long. I expect that by the time I return, you will be properly dressed and ready for dinner."

"Yes, Sire," answered Merlin with a grin, "Don't worry, I would not dare to be late. Now do not let me hold up your visit."

With a last nod at Merlin, certain that the boy would obey, the old King allowed Sir Clifford to lead him away.

Once Ulmer had left the hall, Garrick, Uther and Arthur all turned their attention to Merlin, who was still watching where the old King had disappeared.

When he noticed all eyes on him, the young servant caught his breath and with trepidation took a defensive step backward. The guards who had come forward earlier to take him into custody were still just behind Uther, waiting uncertainly for their next orders.

It was Lord Garrick who spoke first. "That was well done, young man. You have a gift for dealing with people, if I may say so."

Merlin gulped and glanced at Uther, certain that the King would be quick to contradict _that_ opinion.

Before Uther could say anything, Arthur added his own praise. "Yes he does have his moments," the Prince said. "Between bouts of being a walking disaster zone, of course," he added, the twinkle in his eye clearly showing his affection for the young servant.

Lord Garrick looked from Arthur to the serving boy and back again, and then towards the King. "Uther, as I said, I was hoping to ask young Merlin if he would consider joining my household. He would make a fine companion for my father."

Merlin looked up sharply, eyes wide in surprise at the unexpected offer.

Uther studied him for a moment, and Merlin was completely unable to read the King's expression.

"Well boy," Uther said finally, "would you accept such a position?"

Merlin opened and shut his mouth several times. "Thank you very much for asking me, Sire," he said to Lord Garrick gratefully. "But although I really would like to help your father, I think I would prefer to stay in Camelot."

Beside him, Arthur let out a loud breath of relief, covering it with a cough when he realized that he had shown some emotions that he would have preferred to keep hidden.

Merlin did not miss it, and gave him a tiny smile before turning back to Garrick and Uther. "It's just that my mother is nearby, and my friends are all here," he said. "Also, I do enjoy working for my current Master, and….well… he needs me, I think."

Uther actually snorted at that, and it was his turn to hide the reaction in a cough.

Garrick nodded, smiling at the two young men. "I'm certain he does," said the Regent King with a chuckle. "I am not surprised by your rejecting my offer, Merlin, but I had to ask you just in case. If you are sure….?"

"Yes Sire, I'm sure," the young servant answered.

"Then there is no help for it," Garrick said with a last smile at Merlin. Turning back to the King, he added, "Now, if you will excuse me, I shall head to the Great Hall so that I may get an early cup of mead. I have been looking forward to a Camelot-style feast for the entire day!"

As Garrick took his leave, Uther fixed his glare back on Merlin.

Arthur gave the serving boy a reassuring slap on the back, but Merlin still glanced towards the waiting guards. The servant was completely unsure how the King would react to what had just happened.

Uther said slowly, "Tell me the truth. Did you take care of King Ulmer hoping for some sort of reward?"

"What?" Merlin asked with surprise. "No, of course not! I did not even know who he was," he said. "And why would I expect to be rewarded just for treating an old man like I would like to be treated myself someday."

"Yes, but this old man was a noble – a _King_ ," Uther insisted.

Merlin looked at him incredulously, and paused before continuing. "Sire, forgive me for being blunt, but whether King or farmer, I think we all wish for the same things when we are in need: a little bit of respect, dignity and some kindness."

Uther continued to glare at him, but finally the King nodded thoughtfully and to Merlin's relief he waved the waiting guards back towards their usual posts. "Now boy," said the King, "Ulmer said he expects you dressed and in the Great Hall by the time he returns. I suggest you do not disobey his orders."

Merlin stood rooted in place, shooting a confused look towards Arthur.

"Nor mine," Uther continued. "I have decided that for the duration of his stay, you will act as Ulmer's manservant. You will naturally receive additional compensation for this important extra responsibility. Arthur will have to make do without you for a few days."

"Thank you, Sire," Merlin whispered, while Arthur grinned at him proudly. "I will be right there."

"Oh, and boy?" Uther added, turning back one last time. "Do _try_ to stay dry…."

* * *

A/N I hope you enjoyed this. I was aiming for something a bit lighter than 'Overlooked' for this first chapter, although the touch of hurt/comfort just had to creep in there.

Also, I apologize in advance. The next installment of this collection won't be up for quite a while. I originally planned to wait until the whole thing was done, but since each chapter will stand on its own, I changed my mind.


	2. Languages - Part 1

**A/N Sorry for the long wait for this second talent of Merlin's. This is part one of five.**

* * *

 **Chapter 2 - Languages (Part 1)**

Merlin whistled as he bounded up the steps to the physician's chambers. He took them two at a time, full of the restless energy of youth even though he'd been out running errands since just after sunrise that morning.

"Ah, Merlin. I'm glad you are back," called out Gaius as his ward came into the room. "Did you manage to find any white comfrey?"

"Yes, I got two full bags," Merlin answered, coming over to the workbench where his mentor was busily chopping away at a large pile of rosemary. "I'm sorry it took me so long to get back with it, but I had to go further into the forest than I expected."

Gaius looked up from his preparations as Merlin began to take the leafy plants out of the cloth sacks he was carrying and placing them into a neat pile at the edge of the workbench.

"That looks to be a good harvest," the physician said gratefully, "and just in time too. I'm almost to the point where I need to add it to my infusion."

Merlin looked about the workshop with interest once he had deposited the last bunch of comfrey. Beside the comfrey and rosemary were three other small piles of herbs already cut up and ready for use, and there were several pots bubbling away over the flames. Further into the room, the servant could see glass bottles lined up all along the edge of the table where he and Gaius usually took their lunch, with countless books, parchments and scrolls strewn haphazardly over the rest of the surface.

Once Merlin had folded up his now empty sack and put it on the shelf, he walked over to the table to take a closer look. Spying the bread and cheese that Gaius must have left him for lunch among the clutter, he took a chunk of each, cleared himself a small space and sat down. "What are you working on, Gaius?" asked Merlin after he'd eaten a couple of bites. "Has there been some disaster while I was out? You seem to be making an awful lot of medicine."

"Indeed," said Gaius, looking over towards his ward. "Though it was brought to my attention last night rather than while you were out getting the comfrey." The physician paused in his explanation in order to reach over and pick up a measure of the finely chopped lemon balm. Dropping it into his mortar, he began to grind it to a paste. "There have been reports of a strange malady in towns near the south-western border," he continued, after ensuring that his mixture was taking on the right consistency. "Something that affects the memory of the afflicted."

"Memory?" asked Merlin in surprise, "I've never heard of anything like that before."

"Nor have I," admitted Gaius. "But knights sent out to guard a transport of barley seeds to two of the villages in the area came back with a report that the ploughing had not even started yet. They said that apparently the townsfolk had _forgotten_ that Uther was sending the grain in order to help revitalize their farmland."

Merlin frowned, "How can that be possible, Gaius?" he asked. "And if it affected entire _villages_ like that, why are we only finding out about it now? They should have started preparing the fields over a month ago, and people must have been falling ill even before then for it to have taken such a firm hold. Surely the garrison at Marneford would have sent word back."

"They may not have been able to," Gaius answered. "I suspect that this illness must also have struck there. We should know soon. Some of the knights continued on towards the garrison to investigate while the others brought word back to us here in Camelot."

Merlin pursed his mouth in thought for a moment while letting his gaze wander idly over the nearby scrolls. Spotting a parchment titled 'Treatments to Soothe Manipulations of the Inner Minde', the warlock frowned and carefully pulled on it so not to disturb the rest of the pile. "You think it's magical?" he asked, after scanning through it and confirming that the 'manipulations' were mainly referring to incantations and other spells.

"I don't know yet, Merlin," Gaius answered. "As you can see, I`ve much research to do, but for now what I am preparing ought to alleviate some of the symptoms."

The physician lifted his mortar and peered intently at the contents. Satisfied, he put the dish down, added some rosemary into the mix and picked up his pestle once more. "These herbs are known to improve memory and concentration, and also to alleviate anxiety," he explained.

Merlin took a deep, appreciative sniff as Gaius began to crush the aromatic leaves. For once, the scent of the medicine under preparation was not unpleasant. "But why the comfrey, Gaius?", he asked. "I don't recall it having any properties like that."

Gaius looked up sharply, as though surprised that Merlin knew this. "Well, given how advanced this illness is, I've brewed a very potent elixir. The comfrey will balance of some of the negative …. intestinal discomfort… that some of the other herbs may cause."

"Ah… I understand," Merlin answered knowingly.

Gaius gave him a small smile and continued, "The white variety that I asked you collect is reported to be more efficacious than the more common one."

As Gaius turned his attention back to his preparation, Merlin poked once again among the scrolls strewn on the table. "Gaius, perhaps I could help you with some of your research," the young man said, hoping that his mentor would take him up on the offer. Merlin missed reading. In spite of how many books there were in Camelot compared to what had been available in his home town, he'd not really had much opportunity since he'd come to the city. Gaius did send him to find the occasional basic tome in the archives, but besides those and his book of magic, he was kept far too busy with cleaning and errand running to do any significant studying.

Gaius looked up from his work once again, studying the warlock for moment. "No, best leave it to me for now," he said finally. "Most of those books are in Latin, and even the ones that are not are quite complex in their descriptions of medical conditions."

Merlin frowned, taken aback. It almost sounded like Gaius was skeptical of his abilities. "But Gaius," he said, wanting to reassure himself that he was mistaken, "I _can_ read Latin. My mother even taught me French and some Greek, and since she was a healer in our village, I have read medical texts before… I'm sure I could manage."

Gaius continued to look at him uncertainly, as though struggling to find the right words to convey his doubts. "Merlin, I know you want to help," he said slowly, "But I suspect that your mother did not have as many resources for teaching you as we have here, and unfortunately, I have not yet had enough time to assess what you have learned from her. I simply cannot take the risk that you may overlook or misunderstand something." Before Merlin could object, the physician added, "Don't worry, once the cause of this illness has been sorted out, I will test you on your knowledge and tutor you on any skills you may be weak in."

Merlin lowered his eyes, not wanting to meet those of his mentor. "But you've often seen me using my book of magic, and you _know_ how complicated that is. Doesn't that give you enough proof?" he asked hesitantly.

Gaius shook his head slightly, "Unfortunately not," he answered kindly. "You see, the language of the old religion _makes_ itself understood by magic users, and the ease with which such people absorb the words is directly proportional to the strength of their magic." The old man smiled, "So I'm not at all surprised that _you_ find it rather easy to make sense of."

Merlin made no answer, just continued to fiddle with the scrolls on the table, not looking back up at the physician. The young warlock could not understand how Gaius could think his education might be lacking, but could think of no further argument to prove him wrong.

"In any case, what I _really_ need help with is chopping of the comfrey, and then bottling up these mixtures," Gaius said with a forced cheeriness, wanting to break the awkward silence that had begun to drag on. "And you have proven very efficient at that, my boy." Gaius hoped the compliment would take the sting out of his earlier words.

"Yeah, of course I will be happy to do whatever you think I'm best suited for," Merlin answered dully, and pushing the scroll he'd been touching back into the pile, he got to his feet and joined Gaius at the workbench. Still without looking his mentor in the eyes, the warlock took out a chopping knife and bent to his task without a further word.

* * *

Gaius let out a quiet sigh of relief when the last dose was in its vial and stoppered. A Merlin without his usual cheerful chatter was very disconcerting. The physician was surprised at how he'd come to relish it in the short time Merlin had been in his life, especially given the many years he'd worked comfortably in silence before then.

"Well, if you don't need me for anything else, I'd best get back to Arthur," Merlin said, wiping his knife off, and putting it away. "He's sure to have a dozen chores waiting for me by now."

"I will see you at dinner then," Gaius answered. He could tell that the boy was still unhappy, but trusted that Merlin's usual resilience would see him back in good spirits before too long. The physician also decided to put more effort into teaching his ward. It was obvious that Merlin wanted to learn and Gaius saw no harm in indulging him. Perhaps the boy could someday reach a point where Gaius _would_ be able to trust him for research. But that would have to wait until after this current crisis was dealt with.

* * *

"Ow," cried out Merlin, when he was struck by a flying goblet within moments of opening the door to Arthur's chambers. "Now look what you've done!" he complained. "I'm going to have to wash all of this _again!"_

Arthur stood near the window, grinning at his handiwork. "Well, if you'd been on time, the goblet would have still been too full for me to throw, so you've only yourself to blame."

The servant rubbed at his shoulder. The cup had not really hurt him, although it did smart a bit where it had hit. Merlin was more concerned with the droplets of wine that had splattered all across the clean laundry in the basket he'd been bringing into the room.

The servant glared at the Prince. "I _told_ you that I had some errands to do for Gaius this morning, and anyway, you said I did not need to be here until after noon.

"No, I _said_ to be here on the stroke _of_ noon," Arthur countered, still grinning, "but I guess it was too much to expect that a peasant boy would understand the subtle nuances of timekeeping."

"I guess it was," Merlin answered without any trace of his usual banter, and he immediately turned his back to the Prince, using the excuse of stooping to pick up the goblet that had rolled to the wall.

Normally Merlin would have let the comment bounce right off him. After all, Arthur called him an idiot at least ten times every day, and the young servant _knew_ that the Prince used the term affectionately more than anything else.

Or… well… that had always been his assumption. But, given the talk he'd just had with Gaius, Merlin began to wonder if maybe Arthur really _did_ think of him as uneducated, or even as unintelligent. He scowled, realizing that Arthur probably did think just that. After all, the warlock had had even less of chance to prove anything different to the Prince than he'd had with his mentor.

Arthur's smile slid from his face, not knowing what had got his servant into such a foul mood. He frowned at Merlin's back for a moment, before deciding that getting down to business might be the best course of action.

"Merlin, I must join my father in a council session this afternoon," he began. "And rather than subject you to facts and figures, you should be happy to know that I've got some errands for you to run in town."

Merlin clenched his fists. There it was again - that slight on his intelligence. As if understanding 'facts and figures' was beyond him or something. Actually Merlin _liked_ to listen when the King and his advisors went over reports. The servant found it fascinating how the calculations could point to shortages or surpluses of supplies even several years in advance, and how those findings would guide the trade and other policies that kept the kingdom running.

"Yeah, I'm ecstatic," Merlin replied flatly, forcing his fingers to loosen their grip on the goblet. He turned with a sigh, set the cup down on the table by the wall, and walked the few paces to where he'd dropped the basket of clothes when he'd been hit. "I'll go as soon as I've brought this _back_ to the laundry and washed it _again,_ " he said.

Merlin seemed a lot less enthusiastic by the prospect of an afternoon in town than Arthur had expected. So, rather than try to tease his servant by warning him not to linger too long at the pie stand, or to keep his attention off of the pretty farmer's daughter in the vegetable stall lest he walk into some knight and end up in the stocks like he did last time, the Prince simply listed off the things he needed Merlin to collect.

"Yes, Sire," was the only answer Merlin gave before turning back towards the door. Although the tone of the words was properly subservient for a servant, it sounded completely wrong coming from the young man.

Just as the Merlin reached out unlatch the door, Arthur added, "Oh, and before you head out, I need you to bring something back to the archives."

Merlin turned back towards the Prince and waited while Arthur retrieved a thick book, which he laid carefully on top of the clothes in the basket. The servant said nothing, but he was a little surprised. It was rare that Arthur brought books to his room, preferring to read in the library or have somebody else summarize and report on the information he wanted.

"I was doing some research on the French throwing-axe," the Prince explained, noticing Merlin's questioning look. "Some of the bandits in the southern forest have taken to using it, and we did not defend well the last time we met up with such a group."

Merlin nodded as he remembered the outing. He'd used his magic to divert at least three of the flying weapons, but even so, one knight had been killed and four more injured before the brigands had been sent running. "Did the book help?" the servant asked, curious despite his lingering frustration with Arthur, Gaius, and, well… the world in general.

"To an extent," Arthur answered, glad that Merlin seemed to have perked up a little bit. "This volume has some drawings of the techniques used by the Franks, though I do not think the bandits we faced had refined their throwing that much."

Merlin almost reached up to open the book and see for himself, but quickly changed his mind. His self-confidence had already taken a beating, and he did not want to take the risk that Arthur would make some comment about him not being able to understand what he read.

"It has still given me a few ideas about how to deal with them the next time we face them," the Prince added.

Merlin looked wistfully at the book for another moment. "I'm glad you found it useful," he said. Turning back towards the door the servant mumbled, "I'll be back before dinner." And without giving Arthur a chance to reply, Merlin hefted the laundry basket into a more comfortable position on his hip, lifted the latch and escaped into the hallway.

* * *

Merlin's stop at the laundry rooms did not take very long. He vented a small part of his frustrations with a furious scrubbing of the soiled clothing, and that, along with a rebellious touch of magic, soon had the three shirts completely wine-free. He hesitated for a moment and then decided to lay the garments out on the drying frame along the wall. Normally he would have brought them back to Arthur's chambers and hung them by the fire, as he'd intended earlier, but decided there was too much risk that the Prince would still be in his rooms.

After a last check that the shirts were properly secured, Merlin bent down to pick up the book on French axe-throwing, and pushed his basket under the bench where he could retrieve it later.

* * *

Merlin stopped in front of the large wooden doors leading into the library, reluctant to open them and enter. The archives had been his refuge since he'd arrived in Camelot. Somehow the sheer number of books filled with information about almost every imaginable subject had always made him feel reassured; that the answers to every question he had were somewhere to be found if only he looked in the right place. He knew that there was even a wealth of books about magic locked away in the stacks at the furthest end of the library, and loved to imagine a time when magic was free and he could read them at his leisure.

But today, he only felt awkward, like he did not belong in the scholarly rooms. With a sigh Merlin forced himself to push open the doors and stepped inside. He leaned against the door for a few moments, hesitant to go further, but soon the weight of the book in his hands reminded him of the task still to be done. The young servant chided himself for his feelings of inadequacy but even telling himself that Gaius and Arthur simply had not been in a position to see how intelligent he really was didn't erase his doubts.

Still, he brushed them aside and headed towards the area of the library where Geoffrey kept the books on weaponry and battle techniques, coming to an abrupt halt when he noticed that the archivist was working at a table in the same section of the stacks.

The man always made Merlin feel nervous and somewhat incompetent, but given his last couple of hours the feeling was now tenfold. So naturally, the warlock did not pay proper attention when he slipped Arthur's book into the gap on the shelf from where it had obviously been taken. And of course, Geoffrey, who'd been watching him with disapproval, immediately pushed himself away from the table and huffed his way over to the where Merlin was still standing. The archivist removed the book the warlock had just put away and, giving him a deliberate look, turned the volume right side up, and pushed it back into place.

Merlin fled.


	3. Languages - Part 2

A/N dialogue shown in italics indicates that the language spoken is not English.

* * *

 **Chapter 2 - Languages (Part 2)**

Once Merlin was outside in the warm spring sunshine and had started on his errands, his frustrations began to subside, replaced by the simple enjoyment of a beautiful afternoon.

He decided to go first to the silversmith's shop to pick up the Prince's repaired goblet.

"Yes, it's ready," said Eldon, the smith's young apprentice. "Master is keeping it in the strongbox. Just give me a moment to go and get it," he added.

While the boy rushed away to retrieve Arthur's cup, Merlin wandered around the shop looking at the smith's wares. He stopped to admire an ornate hairpin and could imagine Morgana wearing such a thing, although certainly no peasant from Ealdor had ever owned something so fine.

"Merlin," said the booming voice of the silversmith, who had come into the front room of the shop to deliver the goblet personally. "Here it is. Eldon had the honour of repairing it," he said, smiling at the blushing young apprentice.

Merlin's smile returned as he took the cup. He recalled how hard he and Arthur had laughed when he had successfully ducked the thrown goblet only for it to ricochet off the wall and land right in middle of the Prince's bathtub with a huge splash. Merlin paused to look for the small dent and the place where one of the jewels had come loose, and was impressed to see that no trace of the goblet's misadventure was to be seen.

"You've done a good job, Eldon," Merlin said kindly. "The Prince will be pleased with your work."

* * *

With the goblet safely stowed in his bag, Merlin made his way to the leatherworker's shop at the other side of the market. On entering the store, the warlock spied the proprietor sitting at a table over by the window on the left side of the large room. He was busy with another customer but gave Merlin a smile and signalled that he would soon be with the young servant.

While he was waiting, Merlin took in a deep breath. He had always loved the musky smell of new leather, and had enjoyed handling it, appreciating the combination of strength, suppleness and beauty in the tanned skin. Before coming to Camelot, the servant had done many of the simple leather repairs in the small house he shared with his mother. He had even dabbled in some ornamental work like bracelets and hairbands, using scraps given to him by the indulgent local leatherworker. The craftsman had made hints about offering Merlin an apprenticeship when he got old enough, but that was before Will had found out about his magic and his mother had decided it would be safer to send him off to Gaius.

Merlin was running his fingers over the stitching in a fine leather bag when the leatherworker finished up with his customer, making his way over to Merlin as soon as the young lady had been escorted to the door.

"I've got the Prince's saddle, riding gloves and falcon's hood all ready for you, young Merlin," said the man. "But I've found that there is a flaw in the leather of one of the jesses, so I need to make a new one. The other would be fine for a lesser knight, but I would be ashamed to give it to our Prince," he explained.

"Oh, well, how long will it take you to do that?" asked Merlin. "I need to bring the saddle over to the stables. Would you be finished by the time I returned?"

The leathermaster scratched his chin and then nodded slowly. "Aye, it would be just about enough time, though I may still be putting on the finishing touches when you get back."

Merlin smiled, "That's fine. I won't rush. I am sure that Llamrei will not object if I linger to feed her an apple."

The leathermaster grinned. In the short time Merlin had been in Camelot, he had already earned a reputation for his love of animals, and the craftsman was sure a bit of extra time available to spoil the Prince's mare would be put to good use. "I will see you shortly after the next bell then, young man," he said.

* * *

With the saddle delivered and Llamrei happily munching, Merlin found he still had plenty of time on his hands before the leathermaster would be finished with the falcon's jess. He began to make his way back to the shop anyway, but had only gone a few steps when he spotted the baker's boy with a fresh tray of hot meat pies and decided that for once he had time to indulge himself.

After paying for the delicious-smelling pastry, Merlin hitched his bag higher on his shoulder and walked to the sunny space at the back of the large stable building. He made himself comfortable, leaning back against the wall with one leg bent at the knee so his foot rested against the wooden siding.

He had just unwrapped his pie and lifted it to his mouth when two men appeared from around the other side. Merlin recognized one of them as the Irish linen trader who had a stall nearby in the market. Judging by the other man's clothing, he was a fellow Irishman, probably come to deliver new swaths of the popular fabric.

They had not yet noticed Merlin, but since the servant did not really know them he made no sign to draw attention to himself and instead simply continued to eat his pie in silence.

Soon the men began to speak and although Merlin knew it was rude to eavesdrop, he could not help himself. The beautiful lilting rhythm of the Irish tongue was too hard to resist. However, much to Merlin's surprise, the traders were _not_ talking of news or weather from home, or even about drought or banditry along the supply route or any other such things he had imagined two tradesmen would discuss.

What they were talking about was much more interesting and concerning to the young servant.

"… _sent him to give a warning to Odin this morning_ ," the large red haired stall keeper said, causing Merlin to go from casual listening to alertness in an instant.

"A _h, I wondered why he was not here,_ " said the small, bearded newcomer.

Merlin guessed they were talking about the red haired man's usual partner and straightened himself slightly to better hear better what information he had been sent to convey to Camelot's enemy. The young warlock found he had to listen carefully, as the dialect the men were using was a little bit different than that of the itinerant traders that had often made Ealdor a stopover point during Merlin's childhood. The servant was very thankful that many of those traders had amused themselves by speaking to him their musical language when they found him a fast study.

" _What has happened, Alroy? Why could it not wait until I arrived?_ " the man complained.

" _Darragh_ , y _ou are a day late, or I would have been happy to send you in his place"_ the stall-keeper retorted. Dropping his voice slightly, though not enough to prevent Merlin from hearing, Alroy explained, _"A patrol has just returned from the borders and Uther will soon discover that his garrison and outposts are in no shape to defend the area._ _Odin cannot wait until the spring floods have receded; he must move up his invasion so it happens before replacements are sent for the knights stationed there."_

Darragh frowned, " _But why does it matter? Won't the replacements also be affected?"_

Merlin's eyes widened in alarm. The men must be talking about the illness that had taken hold at the borders. The servant did not yet know if it was magically caused or not, but regardless, it seemed that somehow King Odin was responsible.

The stall-keeper narrowed his eyes and glared at his countryman. " _Of course_ , _but it would take almost a full season to incapacitate them,"_ he explained. " _Do you not even recall the most basic nature of the metal?"_ He sounded exasperated with Darragh's lack of understanding of whatever had caused the illness.

Merlin took another casual bite of his pie and chewed slowly, determined to have an excuse to stay and listen to the rest of their conversation. Unfortunately, the piece of pastry he was eating turned out to be rather larger and drier than he'd expected, and caused his swallow to turn into a loud cough.

Naturally this caused the tradesman to take notice of him, and Darragh strode over to where Merlin was trying to be nonchalant about leaning back up against the wall.

"What are you doing here, boy?" the Irishman spat, hands on his hips and glaring at the dark haired boy.

"Um…eating?" Merlin stammered. The servant decided that if he wanted a chance of hearing the rest of the story, he'd be best to play the idiot that others seemed to take him for. "See, I have a meat pie," he added, stepping forward and holding it up to show the trader. "I could share if you like," he offered, putting a frightened tremor in his voice.

"I don't want your pie," Darragh said, slapping Merlin's hand away. "Are you sure that is _all_ you are doing? Tell me the truth!"

Merlin made a conspicuous swallow, his whole head bobbing with the apparent effort. "N… no, sir," he answered, "I …. it's not all."

The Irishman took a step back in surprise at the admission. "NOT ALL?" he roared. "What else are you doing back here! Speak up!"

"I have an apple too….," Merlin whispered and gulped again. "And I came here because… well, it's hidden from the street, and I did not want my master to see me eating it." The servant dropped his eyes, "I was supposed to give it to his horse."

"His … horse…," Darragh said, seeming lost as to what to do next.

"Yes, sir," Merlin admitted, the picture of submission and misery, "I'm sorry. Please do not tell him."

The red-haired trader came halfway to where his countryman still stood before Merlin _. "Leave him, Darragh,"_ he said with a laugh. " _I recognize him - a manservant or something."_ Coming a few steps closer he chuckled again and said, " _From the sounds of him, the idiot can barely understand the King's English. I would not worry about him listening in on anything we say. He's more of a risk to cause a fuss and draw attention if you try to chase him away."_

Merlin managed to suppress his desire to scowl at the words, and left his best dimwitted expression in place, eyes still downcast.

Darragh took another hard look at him, "Mind your place or I **will** track down your Master and tell him you've been deceiving him," he said menacingly, and once he was certain that Merlin was suitably cowed, he turned and followed Alroy back over to the other end of the stable wall.

Merlin let out a breath of relief, and leaned back on the wall once more, making a show of taking a bite first of his pie, then of the apple he'd taken out of his bag.

Darragh folded his arms and scowled at the stall-keeper. " _You seem to know a lot about this plan of Odin's, Alroy,"_ he said. " _I was not told anything other than that Marcel and Armand had sold something to Uther that would incapacitate the entire western border. But I suppose that's because unlike you, my commission means I am always alone on the road rather than living in a well-stocked house in a wealthy city where I can learn such things."_

Alroy shook his head at the slight, and glanced over toward where Merlin was still chewing, eyes cast to the ground, before turning back and answering.

" _Yes, I've stayed in a foreign, enemy land at great personal risk every moment of every day,"_ he spat out. " _I only learned the details because those Frenchmen Odin hired stayed at my house while they were in town last autumn,"_ he added emphatically.

Realizing that the outburst had been louder than they'd intended, both Alroy and Darragh looked towards Merlin yet again, but the servant was leaning back with his head against the wall and his eyes closed, apparently dozing.

Alroy dropped his voice to almost a whisper, though not so low that Merlin had any trouble making out the words.

" _All I know is that the metal is made from an ore that can only be found in a single mine near Nimes, in the south of France, and that it has magical properties,"_ Alroy explained _. "When it is tempered and molded in the artisan forges of the area, it gradually affects the minds of anyone within five leagues."_

Darragh looked confused for a moment, " _But why were Marcel and Armand not affected, or the miners or artisans of the area for that matter?"_ he asked.

" _Marcel told me that they are resistant to its effects. Probably because they've lived with the metal all their lives,"_ Alroy answered.

Merlin stopped himself from nodding at the stall-keeper's conclusion, and continued to listen in case they mentioned something that could lead to an antidote.

His hopes were dashed when Alroy continued. " _Unfortunately I did not see what they'd molded the metal into, nor do I know exactly where Uther sent what he'd purchased, although Armand said Odin would be able to retake all of the towns he'd lost to Camelot in the last three years."_

Darragh confirmed Merlin's fears, " _That is a large area, Alroy. There must be at least six or seven of whatever the item is, spread out over the region."_

" _Yes, that was my impression,"_ the Irishman answered. " _We need to trust that Odin has them well placed. That way it will be several years, if ever, before anyone can work out the cause of the phenomenon and find and eliminate it. Even if the invasion is not successful this year, ultimately Odin cannot fail."_

Merlin finished his pie and took a bite of his apple. He thought about what he'd heard, and hoped that the vague information would be enough to allow Gaius to locate the cure for the illness. He also knew he had to tell somebody about Odin's intentions, not to mention the fact that the Irish linen traders were spies for the enemy King. The young servant looked towards them out of the corner of his eye. They were still talking and so Merlin decided to stay a bit longer to listen in.

" _Do you need me to stay on until Phelan returns?"_ Darragh asked, changing the subject away from invasions and back to more mundane things.

Alroy nodded, " _Yes, I would appreciate that. I could use the help. Phelan usually does the running back and forth to the store room at my house. My stall does not have enough space for shelves, so we keep most of the specialty bolts there."_

" _I've got a full cartload of new linen for you to add to that,"_ Darragh answered, " _and it is the finer stuff this time. I will bring it to your store room later, though you will need to show me where it is."_

" _Yes, of course,"_ the red haired stall-keeper answered. " _Let's go there now. I need to get back to my shop soon, but we can stop by the house first. You can unload the new wares, and then join me at the shop afterwards."_

* * *

Merlin waited for the two men to leave, and had to practically hold himself from running straight back to the castle with his news for Gaius and Arthur. He reasoned that the short time it would take to finish his errands would not hurt anything, and if he faced Arthur without having done so, the Prince might be annoyed and would be less likely to listen to him.

He quickly picked up the jess from the leatherworker's shop, surprising the master when he did not take the man up on his offer to show Merlin the jeweled belt he was working on. It was a commission for the wife of one of Uther's highest ranking knights, and normally the servant loved to linger and talk and admire the work in progress. Instead, Merlin gave a hasty thanks and rushed to the mews to deliver the jesses and hood to the falconer.

Errands done, the young man ran back to the castle, scowling slightly when he caught sight of the Irish linen stall in the distance.

Once inside, he stopped by the laundry room to retrieve Arthur's shirts, whipping them off the drying rack and putting them in the basket he'd left under the bench even though they were not quite dry.

By the time he reached Arthur's chambers, out of breath from sprinting up the several flights of steps, it was only just past midafternoon. Merlin paused to catch his breath, leaning up against the door for a moment before pushing it open and stepping inside.

The room was empty. Arthur had apparently not yet returned from the council meeting.

Merlin stood just inside the door, gaping in disbelief as he looked around the room to confirm its lack of Arthurness. Shaking his head, he walked over to the fireplace and dropped the basket noisily. Shaking out the shirts, he hung them to finish drying and looked back towards the door, willing Arthur to walk through it.

The Prince continued to be absent, so the young servant took the repaired goblet out of his bag and banged it down on the middle of the Prince's desk in frustration. That did not bring Arthur running into the chambers either.

Merlin thought about starting to prepare Arthur's bath, but decided against it. It would be better to see if he could find Gaius and tell him about the metal. Then at least _somebody_ could start making use of his important news.

* * *

"Gaius!" called out Merlin, as soon as he'd pushed his way into the physician's chambers.

His mentor was still preparing medications, bent over a burner on his worktable. Gaius had obviously been hard at work all day. Merlin could see that there were at least twice as many bottles lined up against the edge of the table on the other side of the room as there had been earlier. There were also several scrolls unrolled, along with two books opened and propped up for easy consultation.

"Merlin, be careful. The last thing I need now is for you to knock something over!" Gaius said as the young man crossed the room toward him. Merlin's normal exuberance when he moved about the cluttered rooms had caused minor havoc often enough for the admonishment to become a fond reflex.

"Sorry, Gaius," said the warlock, slowing his pace a notch. "Listen…. I overheard something while I was at the stables," he said. "Something that you need to hear!"

Gaius pushed the beaker he was heating onto the small shelf over the flame and straightened to face his ward. "What is it, Merlin?" he asked. "You look like you are about to burst."

Merlin gave a small smile, "Yes, well I was taken by surprise by the news," he admitted before rushing on. "It was the linen traders, Gaius. I heard them say that Odin caused the illness. It's from some sort of magical French metal. And he is planning to invade!"

Rather than jumping to find books about metals with magical properties, as Merlin had expected, Gaius just continued to look at him with confusion.

"And they were just speaking of it in the stables" he asked, or rather, said, the doubt in his voice, clear.

"Well, behind them actually. But they were talking in Irish, and they did not know that I understood them. I was the only other person around," he answered

That only seemed to increase Gaius' reservations. "Are you sure you translated it right, Merlin?" he asked. "I would have remembered a metal with those properties from my years of researching, but I'm certain I have never come across such a thing."

Merlin scowled, "I know what I heard, Gaius," he insisted.

"Well, I will keep my eyes open for it," the physician promised, though from his tone Merlin doubted he intended to look very hard. "For now, I'm more inclined to think that the illness is natural," Gaius offered. "Some types of mushrooms growing in Camelot near that area have been known to have hallucinatory effects, and I suspect that the villagers may have been out foraging for those, given that they now live within Camelot's borders and are free to roam there."

"Mushrooms?" Merlin asked. "How would mushrooms have affected the _whole_ region?" he asked, trying to show Gaius that he was on the wrong track.

"I have not had time to work that out yet," Gaius admitted. "But so far 'mushrooms' is my best assumption, and since the apothecary has been ordered to leave in two days to bring medications to the area, I need to complete this antidote based on that premise."

The physician reached over and took the beaker he'd set on the shelf earlier, and moved it back over the flames to set it heating again. "If it does not work then the draught you helped me prepare this morning will help the symptoms until we can find the real cause."

"But….," the Merlin began, wanting to remind Gaius that he _already_ knew the real cause.

"But nothing," the physician said, before his ward could continue. "The townsfolk are not in any urgent danger. The illness is very slow acting and does not seem lethal."

"Well, what about Odin?" Merlin asked, for the moment putting aside further attempts to convince Gaius about the metal.

Gaius looked up sharply. "I am sure the knights have already thought about Odin," he said. "Whether the illness is caused by him or not, Uther will ensure that the area is adequately defended if the knights in the garrison have indeed been affected."

"But they said that Odin was going to move up his invasion," Merlin insisted. "Should we not tell the King?"

Gaius shook his head. "It takes time for the King to call in his levees and to prepare for an all-out assault, and I doubt very strongly that he will do an emergency mobilization on the word of an eavesdropping serving boy, Merlin."

The physician held up his hand when it looked like his ward was going to protest again. "I am sorry, but we will just have to trust the planning and intelligence-gathering to Uther," Gaius said. And when Merlin shook his head, he added, "Meanwhile, I _promise_ I will look into French metal as a source of the illness, AFTER I finish this batch of medication."

"Then, could I start…," Merlin tried again.

Gaius cut him off. "Merlin, _please_ …," he said with exasperation. "It is a very busy time and you will be the most help to me right now by carrying on with your usual chores. I rely on you for those."

Merlin gave his mentor one final look of disappointment, but finally lowered his eyes and said, "Yes, of course, Gaius. I was going to go out to the herb garden after dinner, unless you need things earlier."

Gaius smiled when it seemed that his young ward had finally seen sense. "No, after dinner will be fine, Merlin. I can manage without them until then."

"I will see you later then," the servant said as he walked to the shelves of prepared draughts that Gaius kept stored at the side of the room. He began pulling out the bottles he needed to deliver as part of his daily duties to Gaius. "I'm going to straight back to Arthur's quarters as soon as I take care of these," he added, closing the bag and heading to the door without looking back.

* * *

Once he'd begun his deliveries, Merlin decided he had to try once more to pass on his news. He picked up his pace so that he could finish quickly in order to speak with Arthur as soon as possible.

Once the last bottle had been handed out, he rushed to the Prince's chambers, releasing the breath he'd been holding as he opened the door. Arthur was there this time, halfway across the room and looking directly at him.

"Arthur, I have to tell you something," he blurted out.

"Ah, finally back, then?" the Prince asked, as though he had not even heard his servant. "I did not think it would take you this long to pick up those few things I asked for in town."

Merlin put his hands on his hips and glared. "Did you not _notice_ that your shirts are hanging in front of your nose, and your goblet is in the exact middle of your desk?" he asked angrily, even though the Prince's tone had made it clear he was teasing.

Arthur picked up on Merlin's mood at once, and wisely decided not to continue baiting his servant.

"You were not here when I came back," Merlin said, and then shook his head as he remembered that there were much more important things to talk about. "And that's beside the point anyway," he continued. "I heard something while I was out, and I think you need to know about it!"

Arthur scowled. "Well it will have to wait until you have poured my bath," he said. "I am having dinner with my father, the council and some of the senior knights. We need to discuss the situation in the borderlands. Perhaps Gaius has already told you, but there has been some mystery illness take hold there and it has interrupted the spring planting."

"But that's what I want to tell you about," Merlin insisted. "I heard some tradesmen talking about it in the market. It's Odin..."

The Prince raised his eyebrows skeptically at mention of the enemy King. "Odin," Arthur repeated back, and once again Merlin could tell that his news was not going to be believed.

"Yes, and the illness is caused by magic," the servant stammered desperately, hoping the Prince would see the truth.

Arthur just stared at him for a moment. "Merlin, that cannot be anything more than gossip," he said slowly. "Surely you cannot think you have found out anything that my father's councillors and knights did not already know about. Not by standing out in the open marketplace in any case."

Merlin sighed and could not bring himself to say anything.

"Good, now that we've settled that, I am still waiting for you to get my bath," Arthur said with a smile.

"Yes, Sire. Right away," Merlin answered.

Merlin closed the door behind him quietly, and took a few steps down the corridor before slumping up against the wall in defeat. He shook his head in frustration, trying to figure out what he could do to make somebody take his information seriously. Unless the magical metal was neutralized, the illness in the borders would persist until Odin finally recaptured the territory.

Finally he had a thought. It was clear that the only way anybody would take action on his news was if they had actual proof. So Merlin decided he would just have to get that proof himself.

Decision made, he straightened his shoulders with resolve and pushed himself away from the wall. The moment he was finished with his chores, he intended to head straight for the archives.

* * *

Most likely there will be one more part to this section of the story.


	4. Languages - Part 3

A/N Sorry, this is a short one. I had very little time for writing this week, but I decided I'd go ahead and post anyway so you did not have a huge wait. Anyway, it's all about quality rather than quantity, right? :D

Thanks very much to my awesome beta LyricalSinger for helping me to get this out to you.

* * *

 **Chapter 2 - Languages (Part 3)**

Note: words shown in italics in places where Merlin is meant to be reading indicate that the written language is not English.

In the end, Merlin had to a wait a little longer than he had hoped for the opportunity to put his plan into action. Although the warlock had originally hoped to steal away and begin his research after having a few quick bites of dinner, once he arrived home from attending Arthur, one look at Gaius convinced him not to rush back out.

The physician looked exhausted, but there he was, still busy preparing a batch of medicine. "Merlin!" the old man said with something that sounded like relief. "I know you have not eaten yet, but do you have it in yourself to fetch some fresh water and firewood for me? I'm almost out, and I really need to finish this tonight," he said, gesturing towards the mixture he was stirring.

"Of course I will get it for you, Gaius," Merlin answered, going straight over to pick up the wood carrier that was on the floor by the fireplace.

The servant soon returned, staggering into the room with both arms wrapped around a full pile of wood, and a bucket of water dangling precariously from three fingers. Once the wood was stacked, and the water safely set on the worktable, the warlock realized that the rosemary was also running low and offered to replenish the supply, even though it grew in a section of the palace gardens that was unlit.

Merlin decided that there was no reason for Gaius to know about the tiny enchantment that he placed on his torch. It increased the brightness just enough that the servant could quickly collect everything he needed without having the fuss about moving the light around. Nor did Gaius need to know about the little spell that Merlin whispered - almost nothing really - that caused the dirt to disappear off the fragrant sprigs as soon as he put them into his basket, which would greatly speed up the time-consuming task of cleaning them by hand.

"You are back quickly," his mentor said, smiling at his ward. "Oh, to be young and spry once more," he added before bending back to his work.

Merlin chuckled, "Yes, well I hurried," he said, setting the rosemary out on the worktable. "You look tired and I wanted to make sure you could get to your bed soon." The servant helped Gaius chop up what they needed of the herb, and then stirred it into the rest of the mixture which was already simmering over the flames.

"I'm glad that's done," said Gaius, wiping his hands on a towel that was lying on the tabletop. A huge yawn split his face even before he had a chance to put it back down. "You are right, I _am_ tired. But thank goodness I've got you here to help me."

Merlin smiled and thought about reminding Gaius that he was capable of doing more than chopping and fetching, but decided to stick with his plan of proving it.

"I think I will take your advice and stop for the night, my boy," Gaius said. "We will have plenty to do tomorrow, so you should not stay up too late either," he added.

Merlin could not help shifting his eyes away from his mentor. He really hated lying to the man, but he didn't feel he had a choice. "I need to go out and do some work for Arthur he said." At Gaius' look of surprise he added, "It's nothing very difficult; I just need to find some books for him about axe-throwing." Merlin decided he'd be best to admit he was going to the archives. After all, Gaius was good friends with Geoffrey, and the archivist could easily ask about Merlin's late-night visit.

"Ah, axe-throwing, is it?" Gaius asked, and Merlin wondered if the physician suspected the real reason.

"Um, yes. I should not be very late. Don't worry, it won't prevent me from helping you tomorrow," he said in a rush, heading to the door.

* * *

Not long afterward, Merlin found himself in the archives. He seemed to be alone, which was not really surprising given the lateness of the hour. Geoffrey was not at his desk, nor near any of the stacks closest to it. The archivist had likely returned to his quarters straight after the dinner with the King and the council.

The young servant breathed a sigh of relief. He felt much more comfortable knowing that Geoffrey was not there to give him disapproving looks every time he touched a book.

"Now, where would the books about enchanted metal be?" he asked himself. "Or maybe there is a section about French trade," he thought, turning in a slow circle to look around the massive library. So far on his visits he'd been sent mainly for books about medicinal herbs or the treatment of illnesses, but he doubted that what he needed would be near those shelves.

For a moment he regretted that he'd never had a chance to ask Geoffrey how the library was actually organized, only to snicker when he admitted to himself that he would never have dared to do so even if he _had_ had the opportunity.

Finally, he decided to start at the same shelf where he had put away the book about French axe-throwing earlier in the day. The section about weaponry seemed as good a place to start as any.

The young servant scanned through volume after volume about making and refining weapons of all sorts, leaving to the side any he found that dealt solely with their use or care. He also skipped over any books about weapons that were not made of metal. Even so, there seemed to be hundreds to go through.

Merlin stopped, "There has to be a way to narrow them down," he thought, and followed with an internal groan. "I don't even know if this is the right section."

He pulled out a scroll on crossbows, and after unrolling it, he just stared at the words without reading for a moment before coming to a sudden realization. "These books are all written in English," he said aloud. Merlin quickly rerolled the scroll and pushed it back into its place on the shelf. "I need to find _French_ books," he said softly, jumping down from the short ladder that he'd been on.

Once his two feet were firmly on the floor, Merlin scowled and, hands on his hips, looked around wondering where Geoffrey kept the books written in foreign languages. Deciding that the best way to find out, short of waiting for the archivist and asking, was to systematically walk past each shelf until he saw some titles written in French. He could only hope that they were grouped together.

Within a short time, Merlin found what he was looking for, though that was largely due to luck. The young man had been so intent on looking for any trace of French on scrolls and book bindings that he had not watched where he was going, and managed to trip over a small crate of what seemed to be cleaning supplies. He tried to catch himself by grabbing onto the nearest upright surface, but that turned out to be a door camouflaged to look like more shelves. Merlin ended up sprawled on the floor in the entryway of the large room behind the door.

"Ow!" said the young man, picking himself up and rubbing at the elbow that had come in contact with the floor when he'd fallen. His bruises were soon forgotten when he realized what he had found. The room was roughly semi-circular, and every bit of wall was lined with library shelves. Shelves that were full of volumes titled in the French he'd been searching for.

Merlin's mouth dropped open at his luck. "Surely there must be something here," he breathed, moving more fully into the room so he could continue his search.

Geoffrey had arranged the books by region, or possibly by dialect; Merlin was not sure exactly which, but imagined it was more or less the same thing. He knew that each region of France tended to have a different dialect. Some were quite similar to each other, others less so. The young servant did not know all of them, but his mother had schooled him in the most common ones, and in his childhood he had loved to practice both speaking and reading in the beautiful tongues.

It did not take Merlin long to find several books related to mining in France, though most seemed to be more of an accounting of the amounts and qualities of the ores found there, and the trade routes for bringing the ores into the towns that could refine them, and from there into the Five Kingdoms.

"Here they are," he said excitedly, pulling out several books about the mines in the regions of Nimes. He opened the first and scanned through it quickly. "Yes, here '… r _are metal can be used in fabrication of amulets to soothe grief and ease bad memories'"_ he read from a scroll titled ' _Properties of metals from the mines at_ _Alès_ _'_. _"_ And this one, ' _Extreme care must be taken in transporting the metal to avoid befuddlement and forgetfulness'"_ he read in a book called, 'T _rade and supply lines in and out of Nimes'._

In all, Merlin found four books that looked promising for his research about how the enchanted metal worked and what it could have been made into to entice Uther to purchase it. By the time the midnight bell tolled, he had worked out that the mine was nearer to Alès than Nimes, and the metal was generally used to make ornaments, usually through molding. These could be things like sword hilts, embellishments for armour, amulets used for medicinal purposes, flag posts, or even crowns and jewelry. It was not used for weaponry, as it was too soft, but it was coveted for its beautiful burnished appearance. Also, trade outside of southern France was not encouraged, due to a strong, undesired long term effect on people who were not accustomed to its properties.

He was pleased with his progress, but with a yawn, Merlin reluctantly had to admit that he would not find the rest of the answers he was looking for that night. He was too tired to keep reading any longer. So, he put the books he'd found into his bag, and headed back to his room, intending to finish his research the next day.


	5. Languages - Part 4

A/N We are getting close to the end. Just a bit more to go. I've split it here partly because it was getting long, and partly because I was anxious to get something up for you.

Usual thanks to my great beta LyricalSinger

* * *

 **Chapter 2 - Languages (Part 4)**

 **Note: words shown in italics in places where Merlin is meant to be reading indicate that the written language is not English.**

Merlin woke early the next morning, anxious to get a start on his chores for the day. He crept quietly down the stairs wanting to avoid waking Gaius, but was not really surprised to see the old physician already up and hard at work.

"Good morning, Merlin," Gaius called out, looking up as his ward reached the bottom step and began to walk towards the worktable. "I did not hear you come in last night." The physician frowned as Merlin drew near. "You look a bit tired, my boy. I hope you were not out too late. Did you at least find what you needed for Arthur?"

"Oh yes," the servant replied quickly. "There were several books on battleaxes and … um … techniques for using them." The servant picked up a knife and absently began to chop the herbs that Gaius had set out at the far side of the table. Looking up he added, "It turned out to be quite interesting and I guess I just lost track of time. But I brought back a few things that Arthur should be able to use."

At the word 'interesting' being used to in conjunction with 'battleaxe' and 'techniques', Gaius stopped his scrutiny of the colour of the liquid in the flask he was holding, and his eyebrow began to rise.

Merlin gulped and hurried to set down his knife and wipe it clean. He wanted to make a quick escape, knowing how easily his mentor could guilt the truth out of him with that particular look. "There Gaius, I've finished that bunch for you," he said as the physician continued to watch him. "But I need to bring these books to Arthur right away. He wants to look through them while he eats his breakfast." Merlin hurried across the room and picked up his bag, hoping that Gaius would not ask to see these information-filled volumes.

"I'm sure he will enjoy them immensely," the physician finally said, though the eyebrow did not lower in the slightest.

Merlin tightened his grip on his bag. "Uh, well, when will you need me today?" he asked, wanting to change the subject away from anything related to his visit to the library. "Should I come back after I get Arthur's breakfast, or stay with him to do my usual chores?

"If Arthur can spare you at midmorning, it would be helpful," Gaius answered, finally lowering his eyebrow and returning to the inspection of his mixture. "I will be ready to begin bottling this batch of the draught by then."

Merlin nodded his understanding, even though Gaius was looking so intently at his flask that he did not see it. "I will ask him, but I'm sure he won't mind." The warlock put his hand on the door, but turned back before he opened it. "Are you sure I can't help you with your research?" he asked, the question popping out before he could stop it. He immediately kicked himself mentally; he had not intended to ask again until he could prove to Gaius that he was more than capable of it.

But rather than the expected frown and quick dismissal of his offer, Gaius looked at him pensively for a moment, shifting his eyes over to the small table still piled high with books and papers and then back to his ward. "Yes, I believe I could use your assistance," he said finally, not noticing how wide his ward's eyes had become at his words. "But I need to organize the work I've done so far, so that I can explain to you how I'd like to proceed and I won't be ready for that until at least the middle of the afternoon."

"I'll be here," Merlin answered enthusiastically, wondering why Gaius had had a change of heart. Actually, he thought, starting in the afternoon would work out even better, since it would give him a chance to advance his own research to the point where he could hopefully be able to convince Gaius that the French metal was where they should concentrate their efforts.

* * *

"Whazza?" came a muffled protest from somewhere in the Prince's bed as the Spring sunlight poured into the chambers from the newly exposed windows.

Merlin took hold of the sheet that Arthur had pulled up to cover his eyes and snapped it back, uncovering the Prince. "Time to get up," he said. "Your breakfast is waiting for you on the table, and I take no responsibility if the sausages are cold by the time you eat them."

Arthur blinked blearily and squinted his eyes against the sun so he could watch his servant puttering around the room for a moment. The Prince's heart gladdened since it seemed like Merlin was back to his old self. "My, my, you _are_ being efficient this morning," he said. "Are you intending to ask for a day off, or a raise or something?"

Merlin turned around in confusion from where he was sweeping around the fireplace. "No, but I'll take either if you are offering," he said with a small smile before turning his back on the Prince and going straight back to his work without another word. The young servant was so absorbed in planning how best to continue his work from the previous night that he had not even thought about teasing Arthur.

Arthur scowled slightly. Merlin was acting more cheerful than he had the previous day, but there still seemed to be something bothering him. Arthur tried to work out how to ask about it, but Merlin spoke before he had the chance.

"Arthur, Gaius has some things he needs help with this morning," the servant said, pausing his sweeping to turn and face the Prince. "Is it all right if I just stay here and get on with my chores until he needs me? I mean, rather than going all the way to the training ground…"

Arthur narrowed his eyes, wondering if Merlin was simply coming up with an excuse to avoid him. Then he noticed the bags under his servant's eyes and wondered if he might be feeling unwell. That could explain why he had been out of sorts in the last day or so.

"Yes, that will be fine," Arthur answered, concluding that letting Merlin have his way could only help the situation, whatever it was. "And I will be having lunch with my father and going straight to the council meeting afterwards," he added. "So as long as you can fit in mucking out my horse's stall sometime during the afternoon, I will not need you until dinner."

"Thanks," Merlin said with a large, genuine smile, leaving Arthur with no doubt that he'd made the right decision.

* * *

Merlin was the picture of competence that morning, quickly clearing the breakfast dishes and helping Arthur dress for the day. As a result, he had Arthur ready and making plans to head out early to try some new training exercises even before the ninth bell had rung.

As soon as he was sure Arthur was down the hall and around the corner, Merlin brought his bag over and set it on top of the Prince's desk, taking out the four books he'd brought from the library, and spreading them out so they could easily be consulted. Next came his parchment, which he set to the side, ready for notetaking. Arthur's inkpot was already there, right in the middle of the desk.

"Oops, I almost forgot," the warlock said, just as he started to pull up his chair. With a brief stretch of one hand and a flash of gold, a simple ward was set on the area outside the heavy doors to Arthur's chambers. Merlin smiled, confident that he would have enough warning to hide the books should anyone come near. He pulled the first volume toward him, and picked up his quill only to stop once more. "Huh…I guess I'd better…" he muttered, and his eyes flashed gold once more. Merlin nodded with satisfaction as he watched the fireplace begin to clean itself and a rag start furiously rubbing away at the dirt on one of Arthur's boots. Sure that his chores were well underway, the young warlock began his research in earnest.

It did not take Merlin very long to make his way through all four books. Unfortunately, though he did manage to confirm what he had read the previous night, he learned nothing new about the metal.

"There must be _some_ way to cure those people," he said, pushing the last book away in frustration.

Merlin put down his quill and with a sigh he leaned forward with his chin on his hands. He shook his head as he glanced over the books that were still lying open in front of him. Suddenly he stopped, and looked more intently at a volume about trade routes in southern France. The book was open on a page showing a map. Merlin pulled it towards him so he could study it again.

"Ok, this is Arlès," he said, touching a point on the map. "But this bit here is marked 'Germany'" he noticed. "I wonder how far that is?"

Merlin pored over the map for a while, looking for something that showed distances. He soon concluded that Germany would not be many days' journey but it was probably just far enough from the mines that the people would not have a built up a resistance to the effects of the metal. "So if this metal is so desirable, then I wonder if the Germans in that area would want it enough to find some way to get rid of the magic in it," he asked himself.

Merlin sat back in his chair and thought about it for a moment. "And the French do not encourage trading it." He leaned forward and looked at the map again. "So, um … maybe that's why they don't have any information about curing the malady." Merlin nodded to himself, convinced he was on the right track. "Easier to scare people off." He sat back once more and scowled. " _Or_ I may just not have found the right book yet."

The young warlock drummed his fingers on the desk for a few moments and concluded that either way, he would not learn much more without making another trip to the archives.

Merlin stood and began to push his books back into his bag, only quickening his pace when he realized that he was late going to help Gaius. With the last book safely stowed, he immediately sent the cloths that were busy putting a shine on the windows racing back into his cleaning bucket. Once he reached the door he glanced back into the room and with a frown, had the bed make itself before he stepped out into the corridor.

* * *

Fortunately, Gaius did not need his help for very long. They quickly bottled up the medicine that the physician had prepared during the morning.

Merlin noticed how the old man had looked at him apologetically several times while they worked. The servant suspected that Gaius was feeling guilty about doubting his ward, but the man never managed to come out and admit it. When Gaius had still not said anything by the time Merlin was ready to do the daily deliveries, the young warlock simply shrugged his shoulders and gave his mentor a smile before putting the bottles in his pack.

Gaius looked at him uncertainly for a moment. "I… am still expecting your help later this afternoon," he said.

Merlin's smile broadened, "I'm looking forward to it," he said, stepping away from the worktable and hoisting his burgeoning bag on his shoulder with a small grunt.

The noon bell was just ringing when Merlin handed the last of his deliveries over to an elderly spinster whose rooms were in the wing of the castle for the families of some of Uther's longest serving knights. He quickly gave her the information about the dosage and about when she should take the medicine, and after bidding her goodbye, the servant rushed straight to the library.

* * *

Merlin slowly pulled open the doors to the archives and stepped inside, looking around for Geoffrey or anybody else who may be working inside. Relieved when he saw nobody, he decided to resume his search in the room with the French books, just in case he had missed something the night before.

He only needed to pull out and scan over a few volumes before concluding that the room held no further information for him. "I wonder of the books in the other foreign languages are near here too," he pondered, as he pushed the scroll he'd just read back into its place in the shelf.

He guessed he was on the right track, for the shelves nearest the room he'd just exited were lined with books in Latin and Greek. Only two aisles later, Merlin found what he was looking for - an entire row of stacks dedicated to works in German.

A short time later found Merlin absorbed in several books about healing, along with several more about metals and metalworking. He laid them all out at a table in an alcove in the wall so he could pore over them looking for any trace of a cure or a way to neutralize the effects of the magical metal. The French books were in a pile beside him, ready if they should be needed again.

* * *

At precisely his usual time, Geoffrey returned from his lunch in order to do his midday inspection of his domain. He was always on the lookout for books left out by researchers, or put away in the wrong places, or worse still, any evidence that rodents or insects had found their way into the library.

Geoffrey narrowed his eyes with suspicion as he drew near the section of stacks where he archived his large collection of foreign language books. He was sure that he heard some shuffling coming from that area. The archivist relaxed when he could make out some muttering along with the sound of pages being turned. A person then; not vermin.

On reaching the end of the aisle that opened to one of the alcoves he had set up to facilitate research, Geoffrey was not surprised to find somebody sitting at the table. Seeing that the person was surrounded by French and German books, the archivist was intrigued and decided to inquire about what he was studying.

Two steps later, he stopped short with dismay when he recognized the Prince's young manservant. Although the boy was facing away from him, there was no mistaking the large ears or the hint of neckerchief that the boy seemed so fond of.

Geoffrey frowned. If the boy had wanted to hide away in the archives in the guise of doing work, he wished he would have at least had the sense to use the common, English scrolls and volumes nearer to the main entry. Instead, he had taken out some which were valuable and fragile, and _not_ to be handled on a _whim_.

Besides, Merlin was not fooling anyone, least of all Geoffrey. Neither Gaius nor Arthur could possibly have requested these ones. Neither man even _knew_ how to read German. Well, most likely the boy could not even tell the difference, the archivist surmised.

H e took another few steps closer, intending to chastise the servant, only to stop short once again, this time in shock. Merlin had his finger tracing along a passage in one of the books, and was reading it aloud…. _in German_.

Certain he must be mistaken, Geoffrey continued to watch the boy. Merlin was so absorbed in whatever he was reading that he was completely oblivious to the fact that he was no longer alone.

"Yes, this is it!" Geoffrey heard the servant say to himself excitedly. " _Complete neutralization can be effected by adding the roots and leaves of monkshood in equal portions to again equal portions of lye and vinegar."_

Merlin moved his finger back a few words, "leaves, leaves…," the boy said. "Hmm, the roots make aconite, but I don't think we keep the leaves for anything."

G eoffrey watched Merlin dip his quill into the inkwell that was always kept handy on the table, and write a few notes onto a parchment the boy had beside him.

"If I'm lucky, Gaius won't have finished using up all of the plants I brought last time," Merlin breathed, putting down the quill.

" Oh, I did not put down the dosage," he said more loudly, leaning over the book again and tracing the page with his finger. "Ah, here it is," Merlin said, tapping the place, " _One dipper is enough for an item the size of two hands."_

The boy suddenly held up his hands so that his palms were facing him, and the little fingers touching together. "Two hands…," he said. "Hmm, a whole dipper just for that little bit? I think we may need a _lot_."

Geoffrey did not have any idea what Merlin was researching, although it sounded vaguely medical in nature. He was very surprised at the boy's seeming proficiency in German though. The archivist narrowed his eyes, slightly angry that Gaius had never thought to mention it to him. His friend should have known that Geoffrey was always on the lookout for people who could read other languages, and knowledge of German was a rare skill in Camelot. Even Geoffrey himself had only a rudimentary grasp of the tongue.

The archivist was brought out of his musings when Merlin began to collect up his things, carefully closing the book he had been reading, and placing it into his bag along with the parchment he'd been writing on and several other books that had been stacked up beside him.

Taking this as his cue to leave, Geoffrey decided he had better head to his desk before the boy spotted him.

The archivist was seated with his head bent over an open scroll when Merlin reached the front of the chambers a few moments later. Geoffrey aimed his usual stern glare to the departing boy, whose eyes widened on seeing the archivist at his place. However, this time the disdain that always accompanied it was completely absent.


	6. Languages - Part 5

A /N Thanks to my beta LyricalSinger for all her help, and to my vacation in beautiful Nova Scotia, Canada for time and inspiration and especially for time _for_ inspiration.

* * *

 **Chapter 2 - Languages (Part 5 of 5)**

 _A/N dialogue shown in italics indicates that the language spoken is not English._

Merlin left the library, closing the doors slowly behind him, his thoughts already turned to the next part of his research. "I need to figure out what the metal was used for… and where it got to," the servant muttered. Knowing how to neutralize the magical properties in the objects fashioned from the metal was useless if he could not actually find them.

He absently shrugged his bag into a more comfortable position on his shoulder, frowning in concentration as walked quickly down the corridor. The servant was so focused that he did not even notice Sir Leon greet him with a nod, only to shake his head with amusement when the Merlin passed right by him without acknowledgment. The knight had become used to seeing the Prince's young manservant rushing about to complete the long lists of chores Arthur set to him each day.

Merlin's frown deepened just as he reached the large entry hall. He came to a sudden stop, eyes widening and mouth opening in surprise as an idea struck him. "It's so easy," he said to himself, beginning to smile. "I just need to check the ledgers. That should have everything!"

Looking out the windows and down into the courtyard, the servant spared a guilty thought for Arthur's horse and its still-un-mucked stall. "I'll clean it twice as well tomorrow," he promised before picking up his pace and climbing the stairway leading up towards the Royal apartments.

* * *

Once he had confirmed that Arthur was not in his chambers, Merlin walked over to the desk, took out his books and set them towards the middle of the table. Bending down, he opened the large bottom drawer and pulled out a thick leather-bound book, placing it carefully down in front of him as he settled into Arthur's chair.

"I just hope that the King paid for whatever-it-was from the Royal Treasury," the servant muttered, with the first hint of doubt he'd had since having his idea.

The Prince had copies of all of the records of purchases made by the Treasury. Uther liked him to be familiar with the entries, and double-checking the figures was part of Arthur's duties. The servant gave a snort thinking that Arthur would never believe it, but Merlin actually found the books quite interesting; they provided a good overview on what it cost to maintain a Kingdom, from bridge and road repairs to food supplies provided to the knights at distant outposts to entertainment expenses for feast days in Camelot. Merlin had even taken them out a time or two in order to practice calculating with some concrete examples, although that was only possible on rare occasions when he was both ahead on his chores and in the Prince's chambers when Arthur was elsewhere.

The servant opened the tome before him, pressing his finger firmly along the centre binding so it lay flat, and began skimming through the pages. He was relieved that Arthur was at the council meeting that afternoon. Although Merlin reasoned that he probably had enough evidence by now to convince the Prince to at least listen to him, he would feel much more confident once he could provide the complete picture.

* * *

The angle of the shadows in the room had shifted around towards midafternoon and still Merlin had not found the entry he had been searching for, though he knew he must be close. "I never knew we bought so much made out of metal," the young servant said to himself. There had been all manner of entries, in the neat handwriting of the royal clerk, about kitchen tools, fences, bells, axes and many other items besides the swords, mail, and weapons that would be expected. So far most of those had been for purchases made from the blacksmith or other craftsmen based within Camelot. The ones which were not purchased from local merchants had been for items either too large to transport, or too few or too many compared to the six or so 'things' that had allegedly been distributed in the border towns. Others were for items that could not have been made from the Arlès metal.

Merlin sighed as he reached the end of the volume and pushed it to the side. "I guess I need to go further back," he said, walking over to the bookshelf beside the Prince's armoire. Arthur kept about a year's worth of ledgers in his chambers, and a new book was started every several months. It was only the active copy that was kept in the drawer; the others were kept in the bookshelf for a time and then finally brought down to Geoffrey for archiving. Merlin clearly recalled the last time one had been moved downstairs, as he'd only been working for Arthur for a few days and had had no idea where to bring it at the time.

"It must be in this one," Merlin reasoned, pulling out the book at the end of the shelf. "The Irishmen said Uther bought the metal … whatevers… in the autumn…" He opened the book at the first page, "Yes, this must be it. These first rows are all dated in August," he said, running his finger down the page.

The servant carried the book over to the desk and laid it out, beginning to skim the pages even before he was fully seated. He had gone through barely a quarter of the volume when he cried out suddenly, "This has to be it!" and jumped right out of his seat. He bent down and scrambled frantically around in his bag, finally pulling out the parchment on which he had been keeping his notes. He unrolled it beside the ledger, managing to drop his quill twice in his excitement before successfully dipping it into the ink so that he could copy what he'd found. _'Camelot ledger entry 'October 3 – purchase of seven finials – dragon rampant – artisan: S France – sold to: Armand Bardou – price: 28 gold pcs'_ he wrote.

Satisified, Merlin put down the quill and resumed scanning the pages. He still needed to find something that would show where the metal ornaments had been sent. "What would Uther have put them on?" he asked himself. "Fancy tent-poles for patrols in that area?" He shook his head, "No, that wouldn't be very practical, and those Frenchmen could not have been so sure they'd get spread out over the whole area," he concluded with some relief. If it were indeed tent-poles they needed to find, Merlin knew they would be hard to track down.

Merlin was still sitting with his head bent over the ledger, so absorbed in his search that he did not hear it when the latch lifted and the door creaked open a short time later.

* * *

"Merlin?" came the surprised voice of the Prince.

"Arthur, why are you back? I thought you were going to be at council," the warlock exclaimed while cursing himself for having forgotten to set up a 'warning' ward.

Arthur walked closer, a look of incredulity at seeing his servant surrounded by books.

Merlin leap up and bent over the desktop trying to cover everything with his arms, but that had little effect given the number of volumes and ledgers spread over the surface of the desk. "It's not what it looks like," the servant blurted out.

Arthur stopped in his tracks. "It _looks_ like you are desperately studying something," he offered.

"Um... okay, well maybe it _is_ what it looks like, then," Merlin said, straightening and dropping himself back into the desk with a sigh.

Arthur chuckled and drew nearer. "And what exactly _are_ you studying?" he asked when it became apparent that Merlin would not volunteer the information. "Stall-mucking procedures?"

The servant raised his eyes to meet Arthur's, and squared his jaw. "I was doing some research on that illness that has hit the border villages," he said firmly.

"Ah," answered the Prince and at seeing how defensive Merlin had become, he softened his tone. "That sounds helpful, but why the subterfuge?"

Merlin stared hard at the Prince, but Arthur seemed genuinely interested. He sighed and picked up the ledger that was still open before him. "You always go on about me being an idiot, and… and you didn't believe it when I told you about the magic metal, so I didn't want you to order me not to look into it."

"Oh…" said the Prince, realizing that he may well have done just that had Merlin told him of his intentions. He looked more intently at his servant for a moment. "You were probably right," he admitted.

Merlin looked away and put the book he was holding back down, frowning.

"And…?" asked Arthur, breaking the silence.

"And what?" asked Merlin, looking back towards the Prince.

"And… have you found anything in … all of that?" Arthur asked, gesturing at the books on the desk.

Merlin caught his breath, "Um, well… yes… I think I have…," he said waiting to see if Arthur would chide him. He was relieved when the Prince simply nodded as though at last he may be ready to listen to Merlin.

"So, have you told Gaius or Geoffrey yet?" Arthur asked.

Merlin shook his head, "No, Gaius would have gotten angry. He… told me to leave the research to him," the servant admitted, "although he was going to let me start helping with it later this afternoon, so I was planning to tell him then."

"And Geoffrey? Didn't you need to ask for his help to find the books you needed?" Arthur asked.

Merlin looked slightly guilty. "Um… no. Actually I made sure to go to the library when he was not likely to be there," the servant said and with a wince he added, "He … scares me!"

Arthur gave a small snort of amusement, and when Merlin looked offended he said, "Don't worry. I'm not laughing at you. It's just that… he scares me too."

Merlin's eyebrows rose in surprise at the thought that Arthur was afraid of anyone, but he began to grin.

"Father had him tutor me, but he used to get so angry when I read aloud," Arthur said, shaking his head at the memory. "I just never seemed to get it right. I'd skip lines and the words just seem to wiggle and dance around, so I guessed a lot. Usually wrong." He looked up at Merlin and smiled, "And my handwriting was even worse," he continued. "I used to spend half my lessons scraping mistakes off the parchment because I kept mixing up the letters or writing them backwards or things like that."

"Really? I never would have guessed," Merlin said, caught up imagining boy-Arthur at his lessons. "I mean, I've listened to you read speeches and things, and they've always seemed perfect to me…."

Merlin scowled as Arthur began to grin. "Don't let it go to your head…," the servant said.

Arthur chuckled again but quickly became serious once more. "I'm glad you think so," he said. "They used to terrify me, but the thing is I don't actually read them, at least not anymore."

Merlin looked at him in surprise.

"I don't even memorize them really," Arthur explained. "I only need a few words as reminders and I don't even need _that_ unless it's a speech someone has written for me. The trick is that I _learn_ the speech if that makes sense."

Merlin's look of confusion deepened. "What's the difference between learning and memorizing a speech?" he asked.

"I mean I put my efforts into knowing what I want to get across," Arthur said. "I make sure that every single point I want to bring out, becomes my _own_. Then even if I don't use exactly the same words or order as when I practice it, it doesn't matter. I'll still be able to convey what I intend. I just _speak_ it like I'm speaking to you now."

Merlin nodded thoughtfully, "Yes I can see that," he mused. "I guess that's why your speeches always seem so natural and full of emotion." Looking up he noticed that Arthur was grinning again, and decided it was _long_ past time to stop complimenting the Prince. "So, do you want to know what I've learned?" he asked.

Arthur pulled up a chair and after only a brief amused thought that their positions at the desk were reversed, he began to listen to Merlin's voice excitedly explaining his research.

As Merlin continued to speak, enthusiastically pointing to his notes and opening the books to the pages where he'd made his discoveries, Arthur found himself quickly switching his attitude from one of polite interest in Merlin's findings to belief in the results and at last to amazement at his servant.

When Merlin pulled out the German volume to show Arthur where he'd found information about the dosage needed to combat the magical illness, the Prince stopped him. "Merlin, wait," he said, causing the young servant to halt in mid-sentence.

"What is it Arthur?" he asked. "I know it seems like we will need a lot of this mixture, but it should not be any problem to make enough. And it's easy enough to find more monkshood if Gaius has not kept the leaves from the last batch."

"But Merlin… this book... it's in German," Arthur said.

The servant looked at him with confusion for a moment. "Um… I _know_ that, Arthur," he said. "I told you, it was the Germans that figured out how to neutralize the metal. So of course they wrote out the instructions in their own language."

"What I mean is… where on _earth_ did you learn to read it? And French too for that matter?" Arthur asked.

Merlin blinked at him. "Oh… well, my mother taught me a lot of it," he said. "She was a lady's playmate when she was small, before she moved to Ealdor, and took lessons with her mistress. I guess she was quite good at it."

Arthur chuckled, "Looks like you inherited her gift," he said, causing the servant to redden and look down for a moment. "But that can't be all. How did you practice? You must not have had a library full of books to study."

"No, but there are more ways – better ways – to learn a language than just with books, Arthur," Merlin said, looking back up at the Prince. "Ealdor is at a crossroads near the borders of three different kingdoms, and we had traders from all over pass through town. A lot of times they stayed in the village and used it as a sort of base camp while they moved about the area. My mother often got hired to attend them because she spoke their languages, and she brought me along." Merlin gave a chuckle, "Or more properly, I would not be left behind. Listening to the strangers speaking was like music to me."

"I can see how that would help," Arthur said. He'd only mastered French himself because his father had briefly fostered him with a knight from France who had fought for Uther when he had taken over Camelot. The noble had taken his duty very seriously and had forbidden his entire household from speaking English to the young Prince. It had not taken many months for Arthur to become fluent, a skill for which he was still grateful.

"It did help me learn the basics," Merlin said, "and once I got old enough, sometimes they'd take me with them to fetch and carry and do the cooking and things when they went off on their trade excursions," he added. "They used to tell me stories from their homelands as we sat around the campfire in the evenings. That's probably where I learned the most." He smiled as he remembered those times. "Some of the men had books with them, a few traded them. I pestered them to teach me to read and for whatever reason a lot of them indulged me."

Arthur could easily imagine that happening. Grownup Merlin had an undeniable, friendly charm, and seemed to make everyone, except possibly the King, like him. Child-Merlin had probably been irresistible. "So, how many languages do you know?" he asked, curious.

"Besides French and German, there were a few dialects of Irish, Welsh, Latin – well I learned that mostly from my mother, Breton, the Gaelic from the northern lands," he listed off. "Oh, and there was this pair of Saracens trading silk; they stayed in Ealdor for a whole winter and taught me a little bit of Arabic, although I don't remember much of it."

Arthur's eyes widened. "Arabic!" he exclaimed. "Geoffrey showed me a scroll written in Arabic once but I looked like some sort of code to me. Do you know how to read it?"

"No, not really," Merlin said, his eyes wandering back to the books he'd piled on the table. "I learned how to write a few letters, and I remember that it's read from right to left; the opposite from how we do it. But the traders had to leave before they could teach me any more than that."

"Still…," Arthur said, pausing until his servant looked back at him. "Merlin… I have to say… I'm impressed…and also little embarrassed that I ever treated you like you had no education. You've certainly got more skills in languages than I do."

Merlin flushed a bit at the compliment, "Thanks, it's been useful sometimes," he said. "Like now, with this stuff," he added pointing to the page in the German book that he was still holding.

"I'll take your word for it, Merlin," the Prince said with a chuckle. "I can't read it." He stood and added more seriously, "But I think it's time to tell my father about what you have found. He will certainly want to take action on it before Odin has time to invade."

Merlin rolled his eyes, "Yes, but Arthur, we still don't know where those finials were sent."

"Hmm, true…," Arthur said, sinking back into his chair. "So seven finials spread out in border towns…" He crossed his arm and stared out the window in thought.

"Maybe,.." Merlin began, but the Prince waved him to silence, so Merlin pulled the ledger back out and put his finger on the entry about the purchase of the finials in case Arthur needed to consult it.

"Flag posts," Arthur said suddenly, uncrossing his arms and looking intently at his servant. "He had flag posts made just before Samhain last year. I remember him saying he wanted them placed in 5 villages and at the two garrisons in the area, as a symbol of Camelot's protectorship over the region. He must have used the finials on those."

Merlin jumped up. "That's got to be it, then!" he said, pulling the parchment forward and adding the information to the page without even bothering to sit back down. Looking over at Arthur he asked, "What were the five villages?"

Arthur quickly went over to his bookshelf and pulled out some maps of the region. He brought them back over to the desk and unrolled the scrolls. In no time he and Merlin had identified seven towns that may have received the flag posts along with the two garrisons. "I'm sure my father can tell us exactly where the finials were sent, but even if not, it won't take too long to check all nine places once we are in the area," Arthur said.

"Then we have everything we need," Merlin said. "We just have to convince Gaius and your father that our research is right."

Arthur clapped Merlin on the shoulder warmly, "You mean _your_ research," he said, drawing a pleased smile from his servant. "And it _is_ right, so it will _not_ be a problem. So…I will go and talk to my father, and I will let you handle Gaius."

* * *

Merlin tightened his grip on his bag just before pushing open the door to the physician's chambers. Although the young warlock was excited that Gaius wanted his help with his research, he was apprehensive about how his mentor would react to Merlin having done the work already, and against his orders. Still, Merlin was confident that Gaius would see reason once the servant presented his evidence.

"Merlin, I'm glad you are back," Gaius called out as the servant stepped into the room. "I've got everything ready for us on the table. Just let me finish grinding up this thyme and we can get started."

"Um, well, Gaius, it's just that…" Merlin began, as he walked over to join his mentor at the worktable.

Gaius broke in before Merlin could finish his sentence. "Oh, but you must be hungry, and I've just brewed a pot of tea that we can have before we get to work," the physician said, putting down his mortar and pestle and hurrying over to pour Merlin a cup of tea.

Merlin took the offering, amused. He was more certain than ever that Gaius was feeling guilty over doubting him the previous day. "Thanks," he said, taking a sip.

His suspicions were soon confirmed, "Merlin… I've been wanting to talk to you..." said Gaius, going back behind his worktable and absently picking up a cloth and wiping his hands, thyme forgotten for the moment. "I… well, I wanted to say that I was sorry for being so dismissive about your education."

The warlock looked up at his mentor, waiting for him to continue.

"I know we've used your upbringing as an excuse to get you out of trouble a time or two, but I know better than anyone how untrue the insinuation everybody makes about your intelligence is," Gaius said, apologetically.

Merlin gave a small snort at the reminder. "Well it has come in handy," he said. "You don't have to apologize." Now that Gaius had admitted his mistake, the young servant felt suddenly lightened and did not want to draw out his mentor's pain.

"No Merlin, I _do_ need to," Gaius insisted. "I hurt you and you did not deserve that."

The physician clenched and unclenched the cloth he was holding before realizing what he was doing, put it down and then pushed it away from himself. "I guess that your original offer caught me by surprise," he said. "I've always done this type of research by myself, and I'm very set in my ways as to how to go about it," he explained. "I could not imagine you being of help at first, I'm sorry to admit."

Merlin answered gently, "So you said."

Gaius gave a quick smile before turning serious once more. "I was so busy that I did not have time to stop and think about how wrong the excuse I gave you was, until after you had gone to the archives last night." The physician paused and went to fetch his own cup of tea, taking a sip before continuing. "As soon as I lay in my bed, I immediately realized that you were right and that my premise about the mushrooms was flawed; _and_ that you have already shown yourself to be quite proficient in deduction and also in writing."

Gaius looked down, and noticing his half-ground thyme he put down his cup and picked the pestle back up. "And I also realized that your idea about the metal was not so farfetched," he continued, resuming his grinding. "I could easily have missed learning about it since over the years I've mostly concentrated on local artifacts. We can presume that any information about it is contained in books from France."

"You can't _imagine_ how glad I am to hear you say that," said Merlin with a grin. "That makes what I have to tell you much easier."

Gaius raised his eyebrows in surprise, "Oh? What is that?" he asked.

"Well, since nobody seemed to want to listen to me yesterday, I decided to figure it out on my own," he said, and proceeded to tell Gaius everything he had learned.

Gaius had gone silent early on in Merlin's explanation, but both eyebrows had risen and his mouth had begun to open as his peasant-boy ward had run through the facts listed on his note-filled parchment, and had pulled out document after document to substantiate the information.

"And so, do you think we have enough monkshood to make the neutralizing draught?" Merlin asked, wrapping up his research. "Or I guess it's not really a draught since people don't drink it, is it?"

Gaius continued to look at the boy, dumfounded, for a few moments. Finally, he shook himself out of his musing, "Merlin! I don't know what to say. The work you've done here is almost beyond belief," he said.

"Heh, I hope that's a good belief and not a bad one," he said with a hopeful chuckle, although his eyes held some apprehension in spite of his mentor's earlier apology.

"Oh, my boy," Gaius said, his voice almost breaking with emotion. The physician had not missed Merlin's uncertainty and he was dismayed to know that he, who valued literacy and intelligence so highly, had put that doubt there. No, he corrected himself, it was not doubt, at least not in his abilities. Merlin had, rightly, enough confidence in his abilities to go behind Gaius' back to prove himself. What Merlin doubted was whether Gaius believed in him yet. "I am just a stupid, old man," he said, his voice husky. "The work you have done here, piecing this all together by yourself in … just one day… unbelievable! And … all of these _languages..._ " Gaius put down the mortar and pestle he still held and headed decisively over to the low table that was covered in the books and scrolls that he'd just organized in expectation of their afternoon research. He began closing them and piling them up haphazardly, pushing them to the edge of the table. "Come over and help me here," he said, turning back to his ward. "We need to make space for your things."

"Now, run me through that remedy again, and let's see if we have everything we need," the physician said, once there was enough room on the table for Merlin to lay out his notes.

* * *

Merlin and Gaius had just finished checking their supplies, and come to the conclusion that they would indeed need more monkshood, when a knock came at the doors to their chambers.

"The King has requested your attendance in the throne room," said the young messenger once Gaius had opened the door.

The physician turned to Merlin, "I guess the monkshood will need to wait," he said. "Best collect up your research; I expect Uther wants to know what it contains."

* * *

They entered the throne room a short time later, to see Arthur standing beside his father.

"Gaius, Arthur has brought me some information about the illness affecting the western borders," the King said as soon as the physician had crossed the room to stand in front of him. "I would like your opinion on its validity before I change the plans we have already put in place to deal with this matter."

Gaius glanced at Merlin before answering, "Yes Sire, it would be my pleasure."

Just then Geoffrey bustled through the doors and rushed to join the others. "I'm sorry I took so long, Sire. I was putting books away on the top shelf at the far end of my library when I received your summons."

Uther held up his hand to cut off the archivist, "It is of no concern, we were just about to begin." Turning towards his son he added, "Arthur, please explain the conclusions of your research to Geoffrey and Gaius."

"Actually, Father, it was Merlin's research, not my own," Arthur said, giving a smile to the young man.

"Your _servant_?" asked Uther, disbelief oozing out of the words. Uther turned his penetrating gaze on the young warlock. "Explain how you worked this out, boy."

Merlin gulped and moved forward a step. Taking a look first at Arthur and then at Gaius, who both nodded encouragingly, he began to tell the King about everything he had done since the previous day from when he had first overheard the Irish traders, to the point where he and Arthur had tried to narrow down the likely locations for the finials.

Unfortunately, Uther seemed to become more and more skeptical as Merlin talked about using his Irish, French and German information sources, and about going through the ledgers. Once the young servant had finished his recounting, Uther scowled and sat back on the throne. Turning to Arthur he said, "I find it unlikely that a serving boy could have found and correctly interpreted information like this. Have you verified everything he has said?"

Arthur frowned and gave an apologetic look to Merlin, but had to answer honestly, "I have checked what I could, but as I was not there when he overheard the Irishmen, and since I cannot read German, I have not been able to confirm everything. But…"

Before the Prince could continue, Uther turned to the physician. "Gaius, do you agree with the boy's findings?" he asked.

"I do, Sire," the physician answered emphatically. "Merlin's research is meticulous, and his conclusions make perfect sense."

"However, if memory serves, you do not read German either and so cannot corroborate the information about the remedy for this… magic metal," Uther insisted.

Gaius hesitated but then had to admit, "No Sire, I cannot."

"Geoffrey?" Uther asked, turning to the archivist.

"I'm afraid my knowledge of German is fundamental at best," he answered, "but I did see the boy in the library and heard him speaking the language. Much to my surprise he appeared most fluent, Sire."

Geoffrey gave Merlin a nod of what appeared to be respect, causing the young man's mouth to fly open in disbelief.

Uther drummed his fingers on the armrest of the throne for a moment. "Show me the book," he ordered at last.

"Yes Sire," Merlin said, rooting around in his bag until he could draw out the book and hand it to the King. "The information is on the 74th page," he added nervously.

Uther opened the volume and read the page for himself, but as his own German was also limited, he could not confirm the findings either. What he needed was somebody who could read German fluently. A noble and so beyond reproach. "Guard," he called out to one of the men on duty at the door. "Bring Sir Reinold to me," he ordered.

* * *

"Reinold, we need a favour from you," said Uther, smiling at the elderly German knight who had been helped into the throne room shortly after he had been summoned. "Would you mind translating this passage for us?" he asked.

The old man waved his walking stick at the King. "You brought me away from my dinner to read stories to you?" he asked, and on spying Merlin to the side he changed the direction of his stick and waved it towards the young man. "Why did you not simply ask the boy?"

Sir Reinold hobbled a few steps closer to the young warlock. " _What is this all about?_ " he asked.

Dipping his eyes in embarrassment, Merlin answered softly, " _I've told them what it says, but since I'm just a peasant the King does not believe me._ "

" _Ridiculous, although perhaps I should not be surprised,_ " Sir Reinold responded. " _Uther would not believe…_ "

Perhaps it was fortunate that the King heard his name before the old knight could finish his thought. "The boy has made claims, and I simply wish to corroborate them," Uther cut in. "After all, he is not a knight and therefore not subject to its code of ethics."

Sir Reinold chuckled, "Well, perhaps not," he said, "but ethics do not teach German, and this young man knows it very well. He is often kind enough to stay and read to me after he has brought me my medicine." He shuffled back towards the throne, "My eyes are not what they once were, and there are very few in Camelot who would be able to do so," he explained. "And at my age, although I love Camelot and do not ever regret staying to serve you, sometimes it cheers my heart to hear the language of my youth."

The King gave Sir Reinold an indulgent smile, "Yes, I can imagine it does," he said, surprising Merlin with the rarely-seen compassion Gaius had said was common during the King's early reign. "So can you confirm that the boy has the capacity to read and understand a work of this type?" Uther asked, gesturing to Geoffrey to bring forward the book Merlin had used.

"Oh yes, anything he has set his mind to, I'd wager," said the elderly knight with no hesitation. "But here, since you seem to need more proof of the matter, let me take a look and see what it says."

Uther sat back on the throne while Sir Reinold brought the book close enough to read, and quickly confirmed Merlin's findings.

The King then shifted his gaze and let it rest thoughtfully on the servant for a time. "Very well," he said finally, without completely being able to hide how impressed he was with the boy. Then, with no further regard for Merlin, Uther turned towards Arthur. "You will be riding out with the group leaving tomorrow. I expect you to bring enough of the neutralizing mixture to remove the magical taint from each finial. I will provide the names of the towns at breakfast just before you leave."

His instructions given, he rose from his throne and swept from the chamber.

* * *

One morning a week later, Merlin and Gaius were once more summoned to the throne room. Uther was hearing petitions from the townsfolk, and spared them a nod as they entered the room. Merlin followed his mentor to the side of the room in order to wait until Uther, with Geoffrey at his side, finished the weekly duty.

While they waited, Merlin looked around and noticed with surprise that Arthur was standing not too far away from his father, on the other side of the throne from where Merlin and Gaius were. The Prince was talking quietly to Sir Leon, grinning at some joke the man must have told him. Arthur looked clean and well-rested; he must have returned from the Borders the evening before. Merlin had a momentary pang of hurt and jealously at not having been called to serve his master, but then chided himself. He would not even have been available to attend Arthur since he had been out helping Gaius until well after the midnight bell. Babies rarely chose to be born at civilized hours, as he'd realized very early on in his days living with the physician.

Once the last petitioner had left the hall, the King called Arthur and Sir Leon forward. He smiled at them and said, "I am glad to see you home from the Western borders so quickly, and I have been advised that the journey was successful."

Both men nodded, "Yes, Sire. All went well." Leon answered.

"Before I ask you to give your report to the council, I ask Gaius and the servant, Merlin, to also come forward," Uther called out. "And guards, I require the Irish linen tradesmen to be brought before me."

Merlin followed Gaius to where Leon and Arthur were already standing and waited, frowning, for the Irishmen to come into the throne room. He wondered what the King was going to do with them, now that Merlin had implicated them with the malady on the borders.

Once the guards had escorted the two wary men before the King, Uther stood and glared at them, and then turned toward Merlin, "Are these the men you overheard in the market?" he asked.

"Y…yes, Sire." The warlock stammered.

Uther nodded at the confirmation and resumed glaring at the traders. "Geoffrey, I would have you read the charges against these men," he said.

Geoffrey unrolled a parchment he held, ready in his hand. "You, Alroy and Darragh of Ireland, along with your countryman Phelan, and the French traders Armand and Marcel Bardou are hereby charged with treachery against the Kingdom of Camelot, and with spying for her enemy, King Odin," the archivist read aloud.

"Have you anything to say in your defence?" Uther asked.

Both men's eyes popped open in alarm, and Alroy spun to face Merlin before turning back to the King. "Sire, I do not know what this stupid boy has told you," he said, "But I can assure you that Alroy and I are but simple tradesmen."

Darragh forced a laugh, "Sire it is true he may have overheard a few words when we were talking, but our conversation was in _our_ language, and this boy could barely string a sentence together in _English_. He was mumbling on about stealing apples meant for the horses, of all things." Darragh turned an outraged look towards Merlin, as though he'd been sorely wronged. "He is likely trying to have some revenge on us, for I threatened to turn him in for his dishonesty. Have him flogged for lying and making trouble towards honest merchants, and please let us put this nonsense behind us."

Uther sat back on his throne and said only, "I think not," before gesturing towards his son. "Arthur, please make your report," the King ordered.

"Yes Sire," Arthur began. "As per your orders, Sir Leon, myself and the apothecary along with ten knights set out for the garrison at Marneford seven days ago. We brought with us a mixture made by the physician Gaius and his assistant Merlin, which through Merlin's research was determined to cure the effects of a metal originating from Arlès, France and which has magical properties."

Merlin felt very self-conscious at having his name so prominently mentioned in a report to the King. Although sometimes the warlock longed for recognition for the things he did, actually getting that recognition turned out to be surprisingly uncomfortable! Still, it was a nice change.

"On arriving at Marneford, we found every knight in the garrison to have been befuddled by the magical metal," Arthur continued. "However, we removed the finial from the flag post at the gates, and after treating it with our mixture, the effects began to wear off almost immediately."

Merlin looked over at the linen traders. Alroy was pale with his mouth agape, and Darragh stood with his fists clenched, his face red with outrage and disbelief. The servant glanced at the King who was also watching the merchants. It was obvious that the two Irishmen had known exactly what would be found at Marneford, and equally obvious that they were dismayed by Arthur's report.

The Prince was not yet finished though. "Sir Leon and five knights stayed at Marneford to ensure an orderly return to health of the garrison knights," he said. "I continued on with the apothecary and the rest of our group through the five villages and to the garrison at Elston. We negated the metal on the finials at each of these locations, and, as at Marneford, the affected people immediately began to improve."

Leon nodded his confirmation, and Arthur continued once more. "I am happy to report that at the time we left the border region two days ago, both garrisons had returned to full operational capacity, and the villages in the area had all begun their spring planting. In addition, on the day before we left, three advance scouts sent by Odin were intercepted and killed."

Arthur turned and directed the last of his report to the linen traders, "We should face no further risk of invasion from Odin, but _should_ the King make any attempts, we shall be ready for him."

"Excellent work, Arthur, Sir Leon," Uther said, rising to his feet once more. Facing the Irishmen he said, "I trust that you have realized by now what the servant Merlin overheard." Raising his voice, he said, "Merchants Darragh and Alroy, along with Phelan, Armand and Marcel Bardou, you are hereby banished from Camelot for life. Should you be found in these lands again, you will be summarily executed." Uther next turned to the guards, "These men have until midday to pack as many belongings as may be carried on one horse each. The rest of their possessions are forfeit to the crown," he commanded. "You will escort them out of the Kingdom by the fastest route." The King sat once more, "Now, remove them from my sight."

* * *

Merlin was sitting on the floor in Arthur's chambers later that day, polishing the grime of the Prince's weeklong journey off of his armour when someone knocked at door.

The young warlock glared at the Prince for a moment. Arthur was standing only a few feet away from the door, holding a cup of wine in one hand and completely absorbed in a reading a report that he held in the other. "Fine, I'll get it," complained Merlin, extracting himself from the chainmail hauberk and crossing the room at a trot.

Arthur chuckled, glad to hear his servant's cheeky response after a week on the road without him. He had considered bringing Merlin with him, but had decided against it as the servant was still new to riding a horse, and the terrain near the borders was treacherous in places and needed to be taken at speed.

"Sir Geoffrey," Merlin said letting the man into the room. "What can we do for you?" It was rare that the archivist came to see Arthur unless it was to retrieve books or ledgers that had been borrowed from the library, but there were none in the room just then.

"Yes, I need to talk to Arthur," Geoffrey said. "…Actually I need to talk to both of you," he added.

"Both?" asked Merlin, sharing a confused look with Arthur, both young men wondering what the archivist needed.

Geoffrey looked at Merlin intently for several moments. "When I heard you reading German last week, and witnessed your deductive reasoning in working out the cure to the Arlès metal, I was, … well... _impressed_ , would be the right word," he said, drawing an immediate blush from the young servant and a smile of pride from Arthur.

"I like learning, and my mother was a good teacher," Merlin said modestly. "Although it did not do me very much good at home in Ealdor," he added with a grimace. "My townsfolk thought it useless, since it never did help my ability to farm."

"You would have been _wasted_ there, then," Geoffrey responded emphatically. The archivist was offended that anyone would think that _learning_ was a useless activity. "And what you have shown goes beyond being well taught, my boy. You have a fine mind – _very_ fine. I would never have looked for it in a peasant boy, but I certainly cannot deny it."

Merlin turned an even deeper shade of red.

Geoffrey turned back to Arthur, "And so … your Highness, if you would not mind sparing Merlin for the rest of the afternoon and evening, I would appreciate his help. I am researching protocols for dealing with the envoy from Dubb Linn that will arrive next week to discuss a trade route involving their port. Most of my books on the subject are in Irish and so he may be of assistance.

"Protocol research?" Arthur asked, raising his eyebrows. That was _definitely_ not the Prince's idea of an interesting way to spend an afternoon. He was about to provide an excuse for his servant, but glancing over to the young man it was clear from the way the Merlin was practically bouncing on his feet that he was more than excited by the opportunity. "Of course I do not mind, Sir Geoffrey," said Arthur, getting a grateful grin from his servant. "After all, who am I to deny you one of the finest minds in Camelot?"

* * *

End Note:

This is the conclusion of "Languages". I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing. It's very satisfying to let Merlin be acknowledged for his accomplishments and finding ways to make that happen is one of the main things that drove me to write fanfiction.

I'm already working on Chapter '3', although I need to get a little bit further on it before I begin posting. Hopefully you won't need to wait too long though.


	7. Hard-Working - Part 1

A/N Thanks to my good friends in the Whimsical Wanderings chatroom for brainstorming with me on this one, and sending well-deserved love and eternal devotion to beta LyricalSinger.

 **Warning** : This one will be rated T as there is an adult, misuse of authority (not graphic) aspect to the theme and a touch of violence.

* * *

 **Hard-Working – Part 1**

Merlin stifled a yawn of fatigue as he stood behind Arthur, carafe of wine held precariously in one hand. Leaning forward to top up the Prince's goblet, he whispered, "How much longer do you think they are going to be talking about that stupid fair?" as he cocked his head in Lord Reginald and Sir Derrick's direction. "I'd really like the chance to at least _see_ my bed before I have to start my morning chores."

The two brothers were seated across the table from Arthur, and were engaged in deep conversation with the King. They had come to Camelot well in advance of the weeklong tournament that was to be held to honour the 30th anniversary of Uther's crowning. Like most others of the 30 or so nobles that had been invited to have dinner at the King's table that evening, they were hoping to take care of some business with the King before the start of the competitions.

"Not sure," mumbled Arthur, trying not to show that he was discussing anything other than cup-refills with a _servant_. "They need my father's grant of permission to hold one on their lands, but I've not heard them put forward much of an argument to support it." He glanced up at Merlin and took a swallow of his wine. "I'm pretty sure that what they propose will compete with the fair at Sorfield."

"Oh," said Merlin, stepping back out of the way again. The servant barely let his back touch the wall before boredom drove him once more towards the Prince. "And is that good or bad?" he asked, pouring more wine as an excuse to approach the table again so soon.

Unfortunately, Arthur's goblet was already so full that Merlin only managed to make it overflow, the wine dripping down the side of the cup and pooling on the table in a half-circle around the base, where the Arthur had set it.

"Idiot," hissed the Prince, grabbing the cloth that was draped over his servant's arm and wiping his hand, which had been resting on the stem of the goblet. "Watch what you are doing next time!"

Merlin's eyes widened when he realized what he'd done, but he relaxed since Arthur's words had been said without any real anger. "Sorry, Sire," he said, but as he tried to take back his cloth, he jarred the goblet causing it to wobble dangerously and slop even more of the wine onto the table top.

Merlin quickly began to soak up the mess. He desperately hoped that nobody had noticed as, for whatever reason, Merlin's clumsiness at the dinner table had made its appearance several times in the last few days, and usually just at times when the King was looking his way.

The King did not miss it this time either, and Merlin gulped and almost dropped the entire carafe when he glanced up and saw Uther glaring directly at him. To make it worse, his mishap had not only caught the King's attention, but also that of the two brothers who had been talking with him. Merlin wondered if the entire _room_ had seen him spill the wine and thought that maybe he should just throw the jug and the cloth and perhaps a few plates across the room, do a jig and then jump out the window to make his mortification complete.

Arthur's slap across the back of his head brought his attention back to the Prince. "Merlin, only you!" he said. "I'm not sure why I put up with you."

"Me either," the servant agreed with a sad shake of his head, adding "…OW?!" as the fact of being hit finally registered.

"Can you just _leave_ that?" Arthur said, seeing that Merlin was now spreading the mess around more than he was managing to clean it up. "One of the other servants will do that. I think _you_ need to go home and find your bed."

Merlin looked up at the Prince, hurt. This time there _had_ been anger in Arthur's tone. "It's … well it was a long day, and I'm tired," the servant complained. He had been up before dawn and had run around doing errands non-stop for the rest of the day. It was always busy at the Castle in the time leading up to a tournament.

Arthur scowled, "Yes, well for whatever reason, you are useless now," he said. "So go. I'll see you early tomorrow with my breakfast, and don't be late," he warned.

* * *

Lord Reginald watched with interest as Arthur waved the young, dark-haired servant out of the room and called over another boy to take care of the mess that the first had caused. The noble's eyes followed the departing boy as he left the room, and he smiled when he noticed that Sir Derrick also had his eyes on the slim figure.

"Sire," Reginald said, turning to the King, "are Camelot's servants always so entertaining?"

Uther scowled, "Well, _entertaining_ is certainly not a word I would use for _that_ one," he said. " _Disaster_ would be better, though I prefer not to think about him at all."

Reginald looked towards his brother and caught his eye. The two men were always on the lookout for a pretty boy to add to the collection they already had serving at their manor.

"If you do not wish to keep him, we could take him off your hands," Derrick said. "We are short on servants just now, and we could offer a good price for him. After all, we would then have the privilege of boasting that we have a Camelot-trained man in our household."

Uther narrowed his eyes, wondering if the knight was serious about taking the boy off his hands. If so, it could be a good opportunity to rid his son of the idiot and find a replacement worthier of serving a Crown Prince. "I will … consider it …" he said he said slowly.

Uther continued to mull over the possibility. The boy was not a slave, so Uther could not very well _sell_ him outright, as Sir Derrick had implied. However, it would be simple enough to force the servant to comply with his King's demands, should Uther come up with a reasonable justification for his _reassignment_. The problems were that first, he, himself had taken on the boy in a very public hiring, and second, for some incomprehensible reason Arthur seemed to like having the useless servant around. Uther knew he would need a good reason for trading the boy to Sir Derrick; some proof of him being unfit for his job that his son would agree with, or at least could not refute.

He looked over towards Arthur several times during the rest of the evening and saw that he was being efficiently seen to by an unobtrusive young servant. One who knew his place. And kept busy _serving_ things. And did not spill wine all over the table. Or interrupt a Prince to ask questions about things that were none of his business.

Uther sat back with a sigh. He had had enough of thinking about servants for one night. But, although he did not usually take any notice of them, he knew that he would need to make an exception if he wanted an excuse to get rid of Arthur's manservant. He decided that he would keep an eye on the boy until the beginning of the tournament. The servant already had a reputation for laziness; surely it would be easy to collect enough evidence of it and have the boy packing even before the first round of the competition had begun.

* * *

"Ah, Merlin," said Gaius as his ward straggled down the stairs the next morning. "I was wondering when you would get up."

Merlin stepped off the bottom stair and stopped to rub the sleep out of both eyes before moving forward again. "Why?" he asked, raising a hand to cover a yawn. "It's still early, isn't it?" Merlin squinted to look out the window and confirmed that it was only just past dawn. Even though Arthur had banished him from the dining room before the dinner was finished, that had still been after the midnight bell had rung, and he'd had a few things to clean up in Gaius' chambers even after that before finally being able to head to his own room. It seemed like he had only just closed his eyes when the morning light cracked through his window, and he grudgingly pulled himself out of his bed once more.

"I need you to go fishing," Gaius said, giving a last stir to the bowl of oatmeal he was preparing.

Merlin stopped in his tracks, uncomprehending. "Whaa?" he asked, sure that his tired brain must have scrambled Gaius' words.

Gaius chuckled, "Yes, you heard me right. _Fishing,"_ he repeated as he set the bowl down at Merlin's place and brought over two cups and a pot of steaming tea.

Merlin sat down and picked up his spoon, taking a bite of the hot cereal while he waited for Gaius to fill in the details.

"There is a rare type of perch that can be found only in the lake just outside the city for a few days every few years," Gaius said. "Sir Leon came by yesterday and to tell me that he spotted one while he was out on a patrol near there."

Merlin took another bite of his oatmeal, "Perch..." he said. "Um… why? Are they made of gold or something? We can't just fish for the regular type once all the fuss with getting ready for the tournament is done?"

"No, I'm afraid it cannot wait," Gaius said, chuckling at Merlin's expression of doubt. "Leon knows I keep an eye out for them. They are very useful medicinally," he explained enthusiastically. "The oil, the scales, the fins and even the bones and eyes form the base for many of my more esoteric preparations."

Merlin grimaced, hoping that he would never _ever_ have to drink down a potion made up of _those_ particular ingredients.

Gaius smiled at Merlin's obvious distaste, "And if you manage to catch any, we will also have a very good dinner tonight as an extra benefit," he added.

"That right there will make it worthwhile then, I'm sure," Merlin said with a smile. "But I have to check with Arthur and the Steward first. They've been keeping me busy with all sorts of extra chores because of this tournament." The warlock shook his head, "Did you know that Arthur sent me all the way to Milton yesterday just to get a new button for his dress cloak? _Milton!_ For a _button_." Merlin scowled, "He _said_ he needed one with the special dragon inlay that only _they_ can do. I couldn't even use my magic to make one and avoid the trip," he said. "I didn't know what the stupid thing looked like."

"Just do your best," Gaius said, hiding a smile at his ward's outrage, "I cannot ask for more than that, but knowing you, I have no doubt that you will find a way."

* * *

Merlin did eventually find some time head out to the small lake just beyond Camelot's eastern gate. As he'd expected, Arthur and the Steward kept him busy mucking horses' stalls, cleaning windows and washing more floors than existed in the entire _village_ of Ealdor. It was exhausting work, but was not really unpleasant if truth be told. Since all of the other servants in the castle were just as overloaded as Merlin, it was a time of camaraderie as they helped each other out, and commiserated over all of the extra chores. Merlin even saw George wipe away a bead of _sweat!_ Apparently the world's perfect servant _was_ human after all.

It was Cook who finally provided the opportunity he needed. She wanted some watercress collected for dinner that evening, and insisted that the most succulent plants grew by a stream that fed into the same lake that was home to Gaius' perch. Most of the other servants did not like to venture outside of the Castle walls, but Merlin was delighted when Steward asked if he would mind taking on the task.

* * *

"What is _that_?" Arthur asked as Merlin arrived at his chambers bringing his lunch. "You look ridiculous!"

Merlin looked around and, seeing that the Prince's desk was covered with scrolls and parchments, set the tray down on the small table by the fireplace. The servant smiled and let the large round woven bag he was carrying slip off of his shoulder. He held it out to Arthur to inspect. "It's Cook's," he said. "Yeah, it's a good thing she is talented in the kitchen, because she's quite _horrible_ at embroidery." He laughed and pointed to a black mass of stitches with some white spikes at the ends, which Merlin took to be claws. "I think this is meant to be a cat," he said.

"Cat?" Arthur asked, pulling the bag in for a closer look. "I would have guessed it was some sort of swamp monster or something," Dropping the bag he looked back up at his servant, "But why do _you_ have Cook's bag?"

"She needs watercress for dinner tonight, and Steward told her I would go out to the stream and collect it for her," Merlin answered. "As long as you don't need me for anything urgent, that is," he added.

Arthur looked at him, and then glanced around the room. "As long as you clean up in here, and are back in time to pour my bath, I should be able to spare you. Besides, Cook does this thing… with bacon… and… yes, by all means collect her some watercress."

Merlin snickered. "As much as I can carry, I promise," he said. "I also need to get some sort of medicinal fish for Gaius, so I will do that while I am out there."

"Medicinal fish?" asked Arthur raising his eyes skeptically. "No, I don't want to know," he said, holding up a hand to silence Merlin when it looked like the servant was about to explain. "Just be back to pour my bath."

* * *

It did not take long for Merlin to finish cleaning up the room. Not once Arthur had left for the training ground, and the warlock could safely send a couple of tendrils of magic to speed things along, in any case. He let the papers on the desk organize themselves and the laundry float its own way to the basket, while he swept the floor. That done, he secured Cook's bag on his shoulder, picked up the basket and the dirty lunch dishes and left Arthur's chambers.

Merlin hummed tunelessly as he walked along the pathway leading from the road to the bend in the stream where Cook had said the most succulent watercress grew. Once he got closer, he deposited everything but the cat/swamp monster bag near a large rock a few paces away from the banks of the stream, and headed over to take a closer look.

"Oh, well that's …" he muttered, peering out into the water in dismay. There was plenty of luscious-looking watercress, all right, but it was right in the middle of the widest point of the stream, where the water was at least waist deep. "She didn't _tell_ me I was going to need to go swimming for it!" he complained to himself.

Merlin scowled, hands on hips for a moment before he got an idea. "Maybe there's a way…" he said, looking about for a long stick or something that he might use to pull some of the plants towards the shore. "I know; my fishing rod should do it!" he decided, trotting back and retrieving the pole from where he had left it.

"Now, if I could …. just…" he said, crouching down and reaching out to try to corral the plants. But, no matter how far he leaned, he still did not come near to even touching the closest of them. He gave up on his idea when he tottered and almost lost his balance, only preventing himself from slipping right down the bank and into the stream by flailing his arms until he was able to right himself enough to flop down on the muddy bank.

Merlin lay there for a moment, breathing heavily. Once his heart had stopped pounding from his near miss, he stood up and looked around, hoping that he might get away with using his magic to move the watercress towards the shore. He discarded the idea straight away; there were just too many people on the road nearby. He shook his head sadly, "So… well… I guess I'm wet already…" he said, and resigned to an imminent plunge in the cold stream, he began to remove his jacket.

Once his jacket, belt and neckerchief were folded and put beside his other things, Merlin climbed down the bank and waded out to where the plants were growing. With not much purchase on the rocky bottom, it was hard work cutting through the roots of the plant, although at least this far from the road Merlin could use a subtle bit of magic to help untangle them. Still, by the time the warlock filled his bag and dragged himself out of the water, he was completely drenched and was breathless with exhaustion.

"I _hope_ that Cook does not need more of this any time soon," Merlin groaned from where he lay in the grass at the top of the bank. Once he felt able to move again, he pulled himself up to a sitting position, and allowed himself a tiny trickle of magic to warm himself and get at least some of the water out of his clothes. It was late spring and though the sun was warm, the stream had been cold enough that his fingernails were still blue-tinted from being in the water so long. Shivering, he dared to repeat the spell before he finally forced himself to his feet. "I guess that will have to do," he said, leaning over to grab his jacket and the other clothes he had taken off to go wading. Once he was dressed, Merlin hefted his cress-filled bag, picked up his fishing rod and the rest of his various packs and bags and sloshed his way slowly along the banks of the stream.

* * *

Merlin had to walk quite a long way along the lakeshore past where the stream fed into the lake before he found a spot that was likely to attract fish. "This should be perfect," he said, looking around. Nodding with satisfaction, the servant sat down on a grassy place on the bank, divested himself of all his luggage and leaned up against a large tree that overhung the lake. He cast his line and checked to be sure his hook was where he wanted it, and after looking around to make sure nobody was about, he cast a luring spell on the bait.

"Now, I wait," the warlock sighed. He hated this part of fishing, but there was nothing more he could do until the fish decided to investigate. He just hoped that Gaius' perch were close enough that it would not take too long to catch the five the physician needed. Merlin had already been away from the castle much longer than he'd expected and along with getting Arthur's bath ready he had plenty of work waiting for him once he returned.

Merlin leaned over to take another look into the water. "Still nothing," he said, and then chuckled at himself, since he had really only just cast his line. The servant settled back against the tree trunk once again. At least he had thought to bring Arthur's boots to polish along with some of the clothes that were waiting to be mended, so waiting for the fish to bite would not be a complete waste of time. He used his knees to hold his fishing rod, adding a securing spell to ensure that it would not slip, and took out the first boot.

He managed to polish both boots and start on the mending before he felt the first nibble of interest. "Oh, maybe ….," he said, catching his lower lip between his teeth. Taking a firm hold of the rod with both hands, he waited eagerly, only for the movement to fade away. When he was sure the fish, or whatever it had been, was not on his hook he let out a sigh of disappointment and went back to his mending.

After three more tempting nips that did not go any further, Merlin gave into his frustration and risked strengthening the luring spell he had used earlier. Unfortunately, even this did not seem to have any effect.

"That's it," he said to himself, starting on the last bit of mending. "If I haven't had a bite by the time I finish this sock, I'm going to have to head back to the castle." He adjusted his rod a little bit, "Gaius will just have to hope that I can get away again tomorrow."

* * *

When the last sock was mended, Merlin reached over and put it into his pack, "Ok, well that's enough of this," he said, getting ready to release the fishing rod from between his knees. But the fishing gods had other ideas, as just then a strong tug on the line pulled the rod right out from between his knees, and sent it heading straight towards the lake.

Merlin dropped his bag of mending, and scrambled to retrieve his gear, grabbing it only to have another yank almost take it right out of his hands again. The servant's eyes widened with surprise; Gaius had obviously neglected to tell him that the 'rare' perch was also some sort of _monster._ Luckily, he'd done his fair share of fishing in Ealdor, and so he knew how to manoeuver the line and bring a hard-fighting fish in closer and closer until he could finally drag it out of the lake.

Breathing hard from the exertion, he took it off of the hook and rebaited. "Ok, looks like this is going to be _war,"_ he chuckled and rather than sit by the tree, he clambered down the slippery bank and waded out into the water until it was knee deep. Perch typically swam in schools, so if he was lucky, he could quickly catch the rest of the five he needed. It would be much easier to get the fish out of the water from his new location.

It did not take very long to hook two more, each putting up a bigger fight than the last. "I'm lucky my arms have not fallen out yet," Merlin breathed as he pulled in the third. "And taken my shoulders right with them."

Merlin climbed back up the bank, trying not to damage the fish that he had tied together with a hemp string and hung over his shoulders. He grasped at the slippery stones, trying to pull himself upward. Once he reached the top of the bank, he slumped to the ground and sat resting for a moment until he found enough energy to remove the fish from their hooks and put them in the bag with the first.

"There is no way I am going back down there again," the servant said with a grimace. He leaned back against the tree trunk for a few moments before deciding that he could just stay where he was. Surely he could catch the rest of the fish in the same way as he'd caught the first.

Merlin sighed, and reached for the rod and bait, and cast his line into the water once more. It seemed that the school had moved off, as he had no nibbles and the water was still. "Maybe just one more little luring spell," he decided, his eyes shining golden for a brief moment. That done, the warlock shifted to find a more comfortable position against the tree.

Unfortunately, with no mending or polishing left to distract him from the hypnotic sound and view of the calm water gently lapping against the bank of the lake, and since the sun was high in the sky, the day was warm and the tree trunk was surprisingly comfortable, it was almost inevitable that the tired young servant nodded off to sleep.

* * *

"Sire, I had heard that Camelot was beautiful, but I did not know that it extended to the countryside outside its walls," said Lord Reginald, bringing his horse almost alongside the King's.

Uther had organized a tour of the towns just outside of the city, and many of the visiting nobles and knights had joined him. The King wanted to show his retainers some of the features of Camelot's watch towers, as he expected them to fortify their lands in the same way. Sir Derrick and Lord Reginald had been among the first to add their names to the list to accompany the King, hoping to find more time to put forward their case for their fair, not to mention their offer to take possession of the young, lithe, dark-haired manservant. Uther had told them he would decide on the latter within the week, but the brothers were anxious to get the boy under their command.

Uther grunted his agreement to the noble, "Yes, it is, but it is also highly defendable," the King insisted. He was getting ready to point out a sentry post on the roadway beside the small lake the group was nearing when he noticed several bags sitting beside a tree and a fishing line in the water.

The boy holding the rod came into sight as the road they were on rounded the corner and began to follow the lake. "Is that not the servant who spilled the wine last night?" asked Sir Derrick coming up behind his brother.

Lord Reginald stood in his stirrups to get a better look. "Yes, and it looks as though he's found a way to give his master the slip," he said with a laugh. "Derrick, I believe a new set of shackles may be needed once the boy becomes our servant."

Uther scowled in anger. All of the _other_ servants in the castle were busy preparing for his 30th Anniversary celebrations, and here was Arthur's manservant _fishing._ Fishing and _sleeping_ when he should be attending the Prince _._ It was exactly the type of laziness he had expected from the boy, and to make things worse, it was in full view of important, visiting nobility. The King had a mind to hand the servant over to Lord Reginald that _moment_ and only held himself back with difficulty. Arthur would likely find some excuse for the idiot, so he decided that it would be better if he found more evidence before making his final decision.

Merlin never noticed the group that passed him by and continued along the road, and so missed both the look of disgust that the King aimed at him and Sir Derrick's lecherous smirk.

* * *

A/N This installment -'Hard-Working' - will have approximately 5 chapters. Stay tuned for the next in about a week.


	8. Hard-Working - Part 2

**Hard-Working – Part 2**

"What is the matter with you tonight?" Arthur asked his servant as Merlin began to hurriedly step away after having filled Arthur's goblet.

"What?" asked Merlin, in confusion. "I'm doing everything right!" The servant had been very anxious since the beginning of the meal when he noticed how Uther kept looking over at him with frowns of disapproval. He decided that for once he had better try to act the perfect servant, and so far, at least to his knowledge, he had not slipped up.

Arthur chuckled. "That's what I'm talking about," he said. "I'm not sure what to make of it. I keep waiting for the ceiling to fall in or something. It's disconcerting."

"Ha ha…," said Merlin, but when he saw Uther _again_ looking his way, he refused any further retort, snapped his lips together and stepped back to the wall quickly, adopting the disinterested gaze that seemed to come so naturally to the other servants.

Arthur shook his head in bemusement. Dinner was not _nearly_ as entertaining with Merlin behaving like a _proper_ servant _._

* * *

Merlin let out a huge sigh of relief when Arthur decided to leave the Great Hall without waiting for the evening's entertainment to completely come to an end. His back and shoulders were _aching_ from staying so rigidly upright all evening. He hoped Arthur would not need to keep him too late, as he really wanted to get back to the physician's chambers and see if Gaius had some sort of liniment he could use.

"Come _on,_ Merlin," said the Prince who was by now several paces ahead of his flagging servant. "I've got to be up early tomorrow, so I can't afford any of your dawdling."

Merlin tried to increase his pace, but the effort was futile. He was just too tired from all of the added chores, especially collecting the watercress and, of course, landing Gaius' rare perch. He rubbed his aching arms at the memory. "By early, I hope you mean _mid-morning,"_ he said.

"I wish," Arthur answered with a laugh, slowing down once he realized that Merlin was not going to catch up. "No, my Father invited some of the guests from dinner tonight to participate in a special session with me tomorrow. Seems they expressed some doubts about our training regimen in general, and my skills in particular, and so he wants me to set them straight."

Merlin snorted, "Oh, really? Have they never seen you fight?"

"No… or, well a few of them did when I was still a boy," Arthur answered.

"This should be fun to watch then," Merlin laughed, an action which rapidly turned into a wince when it jarred his aching muscles although the servant quickly put the discomfort out of his mind. "From what I've seen of this lot at dinner, they don't look very impressive, though what do I know…. can I lay a wager?"

Arthur grinned at him, "I don't know about the wagering, but I do agree about the fun, _and_ you _saw_ rightly. Most are beyond their prime, and the others seem to be more knowledgeable about the food on their plates and of how to maintain the fullness of their beards than about weapons and tactics. Other than the bit about it being _before_ breakfast, I'm looking forward to putting a few of them in their places." He turned to Merlin with a scowl, "There are some – especially those brothers that keep practically leering at you – that I really want to see grovelling on the ground and asking me for mercy!"

Merlin's eyes shot open, "Leering?" he asked. He recalled Sir Derrick and Lord Reginald laughing at him the previous night, but … _leering?_ He felt a hint of unease, even though he was confident he could avoid the men.

"Don't worry, I won't let them anywhere near you," Arthur promised, causing the tired servant to feel a sudden warm rush of friendship for the Prince.

* * *

It was still relatively early when the young warlock stumbled through the door of the Physician's chambers.

"Merlin, I did not expect you yet," called out Gaius from where he was standing up on a ladder near where he kept his more specialized and infrequently-used equipment. "I wanted to thank you for the perch. I've just finished with the bone-grinding."

Merlin scrunched his nose in disgust, glad that he had not been in the room to witness that particular procedure.

Gaius laughed when he saw his ward's expression. "And I poached the meat. There is a plate of it on the table for you, if you are hungry."

"Thanks Gaius," Merlin said, placing his bag down on the floor and eagerly coming over to find the tasty treat. "I'm famished. Didn't get a chance for any dinner after bringing the fish to you earlier."

The physician finished putting his equipment away, and climbed down the ladder to join his ward. "As it happened, your perch-finding expedition was very timely. I had just finished using the oil to make my special tincture for treating severe abdominal pains, when Sir Geoffrey came in complaining of those very same symptoms! He has suffered on and off with them for years."

Merlin raised his eyebrows in surprise. "That was a happy coincidence," he said, glad for Geoffrey that the fish had started biting just in time, and he had not needed to cut short his fishing trip.

Merlin and Gaius continued their relaxed chatting while Merlin ate his dinner. "Gaius, is there anything you need me to do for you tonight?" the warlock asked, as the two men finished the cups of tea that Gaius had poured.

"No, not that I can think of," the physician answered. "And I hope that means you will be going straight up to your bed. You look like you could use the sleep."

Merlin smiled at his mentor. "Yeah, that was what I was intending," he said.

"Good," Gaius said with a nod of satisfaction. "Then before you head upstairs, let me rub some salve on your shoulders. The way you've been holding yourself so stiffly since you came in reminds me of _me!_ "

Merlin rolled his eyes, not surprised that his attempts to hide his discomfort had been unsuccessful. "Thanks, you can't even _imagine_ how much I would appreciate that," he said gratefully, as he stood and began to remove his shirt.

* * *

Merlin fell asleep as soon as his head touched his pillow, content with a full stomach and with the aches and pains from the day eased.

Unfortunately, his rest did not last very long.

"Merlin!" Gaius called out, knocking twice on the door to the servant's room only a short time after the midnight bell had rung. He pushed open the door without waiting for an answer. "I hate to wake you, but I'm afraid I am going to need your help at a birthing."

Merlin sat up right away, any thoughts of sleep pushed completely to the side due to the urgency of Gaius' request. "Lady Miriam or Lady Winifred?" the warlock asked. Gaius had closely followed the progress of both of the women's pregnancies, since each was carrying twins.

"Er… well, both…in fact," the physician exclaimed. "I was summoned by Lady Winifred not long after you retired, and was just about to leave for her apartments when Miriam's midwife also sent for me." He paused while Merlin pulled on his boots and snatched his jacket up from the floor where he had discarded it only a short time earlier.

"I can see why that would be a problem," the warlock said as they headed down the stairs. "So what do you want me to do?"

"Lady Winifred has had some complications and it is quite early in her pregnancy for her to be in labour," Gaius explained, "So I had better help her, and would ask you to see to Lady Miriam which I hope will be a more routine birth, although it _is_ twins. Summon me immediately if you run into any problems you or the midwife cannot handle, but you have helped me with enough births that I'm confident you won't need me."

Merlin hurried over to the workbench as soon as they reached the bottom step, quickly packing his medical bag with the supplies he knew he would need.

"What's this one for?" he asked as the physician handed him a bottle of blue liquid.

Gaius chuckled. " _That_ is for Sir Robert," he said. "It will calm his nerves."

It was Merlin's turn to chuckle. The servant liked the young nobleman and his pretty wife. They were very much in love and had been elated over their impending parenthood. Merlin guessed that the expectant father may well have need of Gaius' potion.

* * *

The sun had risen, and the early risers were already out and about in the city by the time Merlin left Sir Robert and Lady Miriam's house. The young warlock was exhausted but happy. He had helped Lady Miriam through a difficult labour and left her sleeping peacefully, while Sir Robert held a healthy, swaddled son in each arm. Merlin had grinned as he watched the nobleman. Robert could not stop looking from one baby to the other, his expression full of wonder and pride.

While he was packing up his supplies, and getting ready to take his leave, Merlin had heard Robert refuse to hand either child over to the midwife who was waiting to bring the twins to the pair of wet nurses waiting in the nursery. Rather than getting involved in the argument and knowing that the midwife would soon make the young knight see reason, Merlin picked up his bag and slipped out the door, closing it quietly behind him.

* * *

"Merlin, Arthur is looking for you," called out Gwen from across the large entry hall. The serving girl hurried over to where Merlin had just reached the top step of the large stone stairway leading into the castle.

"Where were you?" Gwen asked, taking in the dark circles under the servant's eyes. "Merlin, have you been up all night?"

"Yeah, but it was for a good cause," he answered tiredly but with a smile. "Lady Miriam had her twins."

Gwen's eyes lit up with excitement. "Oh, I will tell Morgana right away," she said. "I hope we will be able to stop in to visit later today." Miriam was a good friend of Morgana's, and the three women spent quite a bit of time together.

"Don't you need to get some sleep before you go back to work?" Gwen asked, her eyes returning to her weary friend's face. "I could take Arthur a message if you like…"

Merlin smiled at the girl's concern. "No, it's all right," he said. "I'd better see what he wants. Hopefully he will let me go home and take a nap after I've brought his breakfast."

* * *

"Sorry I'm a bit late, Sire," Merlin said as soon as he entered Arthur's chambers.

The Prince was already up and dressed in shirt, pants and with his favourite gambeson pulled on. He had started to put on his hauberk just as Merlin was arriving. "Good, it's about time," Arthur said with a touch of anger, "Did you forget I had a training session this morning?"

Merlin's eyebrows raised and his mouth opened with dismay. "Oh, um… I guess I did, but I _do_ have an explanation," he said, dropping his medical bag and hurrying over to pull the hauberk into place and hand Arthur his gauntlets.

Arthur looked up and him and frowned. "What happened to you?" he asked. "You look like you have not slept in weeks. I hope you did not spend the night in the tavern just because I let you off a little bit early."

"Of course I didn't," Merlin answered, indignantly. "I _said_ I had a _good_ reason…"

"For being late," Arthur answered, cutting him off. "Not for getting no sleep." The Prince tried to hide a smile at his servant's reaction, but was not quite successful.

Merlin grinned. It was clear that Arthur was just baiting him and did not really believe that he had been in the tavern, plus the servant had good news. "It's for both," he answered. "Sir Robert's babes were born last night and I needed to help with that."

"Hmmm," Arthur said, as if he were weighing the merits of Merlin's justification. "Sons?" he asked finally, making it sound as if this were a deciding factor.

"Yes, both of them," Merlin answered. "But if you are about to say that sons would be better than daughters, I will go straight to Morgana and tell her you said so," he added, giving the Prince a push.

"I would not dare!" Arthur replied raising his eyebrows in a mock look of fear. "But yes, your excuse has been accepted." Clasping Merlin by the shoulder, he spun him around and began to lead him towards the door. "Now, we'd better get down to the training grounds. The quicker I can dispatch these _idiot_ knights, the sooner I … _you_ can get my breakfast."

* * *

By the time Merlin and Arthur reached the field, about two dozen of the visiting nobles were already waiting by the stands. About half of those were strutting around dressed in mail, ready to show how much better they were than their Prince. The others were standing in expectation of a good show.

Among those dressed to fight was Sir Derrick, who had gleaming armour and a sword hanging in a scabbard that had gold and jewels encrusted along its full length. All of his equipment looked new, and Arthur stifled a chuckle as it crossed his mind that the man probably did not like to get dirty.

"Merlin, go and put my things over there," Arthur said as they neared where the others were gathered. He pointed to the weapons rack at end of the field opposite the stands. "And just stay there out of the way for now. I'll need you once the matches start"

Merlin quickly made his way across the field to do as he'd been asked. Arthur was confident, but had no reason not to be. What Merlin could not understand was why these visitors did not seem to know of the Prince's reputation as the most skilled knight in Camelot. It became a bit clearer when he overheard two of the competitors talking as they arranged their own equipment.

"I'm sure he is overrated," said one, putting his mace in a slot in one of the racks, and ensuring that the chain was not kinked. "After all, he is the _Prince_ so the knights here who need to deal with him day to day would not dare to show him up."

His companion slid a quarterstaff into another spot, "No, they would not," he answered. "I remember watching him fight several years ago, and what I remember best was how poor of a loser he was!

Merlin smiled to himself at the thought that the men would soon be getting _quite_ a surprise. _He_ knew the truth of the Prince's skill, having seen him easily win a tournament incognito less than a year earlier. He did not have any doubt that Arthur had been prone to poor sportsmanship when he was a lad, though.

The two men laughed as Merlin busied himself with setting out the mace, quarterstaff, knives and other equipment that Arthur had brought with him. He was so concentrated on his work that he did not notice that Sir Derrick had come up beside him until the man spoke.

"So, does the Prince not have a squire?" he asked, his eyes raking Merlin from head to toe. "He cannot be much of a knight if he makes his serving boy take care of his weapons rather than leaving him in the castle, protected."

Merlin coloured and took a step away from the man. Did the knight think he was some sort of damsel to be locked away for safekeeping? "He does not need a squire; I do the job just fine," Merlin answered angrily. "And he is a great knight. The _best_."

"I am sure you think so," said Sir Derrick with a chuckle at Merlin's fierce loyalty. "But that is because you do not know any differently. I can tell by looking that he has you not only overworked, but also doing the wrong types of things." He looked at Merlin again, and there was no mistaking the possessiveness in it. "A servant like you should be cherished and kept out of harm's way."

Merlin's eyes flew open. "Cherished?" he choked out, taking another step back. "I don't need to be _cherished_ at all. What I _need_ is to finish setting out Arthur's equipment so he can win these stupid fights and I can go back to the castle and get to work on his laundry!"

"I think somebody had better teach you to watch your tongue," Sir Derrick said warningly, taking a threatening step towards the servant.

Merlin scrambled to put the weapons rack between himself and the knight and breathed a sigh of relief when the King arrived and joined Arthur, causing the Sir Derrick to forget his interest in the servant and turn and hurry back towards the rest of the visitors.

* * *

"I am pleased to see so many of you out this early in the morning," King Uther said, looking around at the group that had gathered. "Lord Alder, I was not aware that you knew there were hours before noon in the day," he teased, getting a laugh from a large grey-haired man in the middle of the crowd.

"Perhaps not, Sire, perhaps not," the man answered in the same teasing tone. "But my son wished a witness to his prowess in defeating your own and so here I am."

There were more laughs throughout the group, and Arthur, who was standing beside his father, grinned at the man.

"Let us get started then," said Uther with a smile of his own. "And since this is to be a demonstration of the skills encouraged here and expressly of Prince Arthur's mastery of them, I shall have Geoffrey of Monmouth explain how we shall proceed."

Uther gestured for the archivist to come forward and the crowd went silent, waiting for their instructions.

"Each man will fight in turn against Prince Arthur according to short-stick draw," Sir Geoffrey began. "A match will be considered over as soon as either man is relieved of his weapon or is knocked to the ground." The archivist paused to see if there were any questions, but nobody spoke up. "Also, the Prince will offer you your choice of weapons when you fight him," he added, drawing murmurs of surprise from the competitors. Some of them were impressed at the Prince's gesture; others seemed to be scoffing at Arthur's apparent overconfidence.

"Are rules understood?" Uther asked.

"Yes, Sire," somebody called out. "But who will be declared the victor, and will there be a prize?"

Uther smiled and shook his head. "No, as this is merely a demonstration, any victory over my son should be considered prize enough," he said.

There were a few laughs at this, but then Sir Derrick called out, "How about a day of use of Prince Arthur's servant? I don't know about these others, but I could use somebody to help out in my chambers after a week away from home." Others around him rolled their eyes, although a few could be seen nodding with interest.

Uther frowned in thought for a moment, "I don't see why not," he decided. Looking towards an outraged Arthur he said loudly, "The man who defeats my son in the smallest amount of time will be considered the victor, and can make use of the boy for one day should he wish to."

Merlin's eyes widened at the King's words, and he glared at Uther's back, angry that the King had not even asked for Arthur's permission. Merlin was already used to being loaned out during events with many visitors, so he was not particularly bothered at becoming a 'prize', at least he was not until he looked over at Sir Derrick and saw that both the knight and his brother, Lord Reginald, were watching him …lecherously. Merlin shifted his eyes back to Arthur and shuddered, but he was not worried; he gave Sir Derrick less than no chance of ever defeating Arthur.

* * *

With the rules having been laid out, the competition was soon underway. As Merlin had expected, Arthur quickly showed that his reputation was no fluke. He defeated each of the first three participants in less than three turns of the timer, and the next two before the sand had run through even once.

After the sixth man had his mace ripped from his hands and sent flying halfway toward the stands within mere moments, one of the remaining competitors suddenly remembered an urgent business appointment somewhere _far away_ from the training grounds.

Arthur glanced over at Merlin and shrugged as another one of the knights removed his helm and bowed out. "I'm sorry that I doubted you Sire but I feel I had better hide my strengths for the tournament," the man said.

"I look forward to facing you then, Sir Bertram," answered Arthur graciously. At least the man had admitted to being outmatched.

Not so, Sir Derrick. When Arthur sent the next competitor to the ground before he had managed to complete even one sword stroke, the knight glanced up towards his brother who could only offer a small shrug of his shoulders. With only a few participants left, Sir Derrick began to complain. "The Prince has an unfair advantage, as he has had the chance to warm up," he said to the participant beside him.

"Yes, but we are much fresher, and _I_ have been limbering up as I've been watching," came the response, "Did you not think to do the same?"

Sir Derrick scowled and turned to bother the knight to his other side, "The ground here has become too muddy to offer a fair fight," he said.

The man looked at him in confusion, "It's a very light rain, and it's the same ground for us and the Prince," he said. "How can it be _unfair?"_

Before the knight could think up a response, Sir Geoffrey called out, "Sir Derrick, you are next on the field. Please choose your weapon."

Sir Derrick took a few hesitant steps over toward the weapons rack, and then turned back and glanced up at his brother, and then at Arthur who had just dispatched another competitor in less than one turn of the glass. "I regret that I must decline this match," he said, addressing himself to the King. "The conditions on the field have become much too treacherous with mud, and I do not wish to risk any injury that would prevent my participation in the tournament."

Merlin snickered from where he still stood by Arthur's weapons. "And you don't want to get your shiny boots dirty," he whispered.

Unfortunately, Derrick was just close enough to the servant to hear him and the knight turned to scowl at Merlin and quickly closed the ground between them.

Merlin's eyes widened and he tried to scramble out of the way as Sir Derrick raised his hand. The servant was not quite quick enough to avoid the knight's blow, which caught him on the cheek and sent him stumbling to the ground.

"I thought I warned you about minding your tongue," Sir Derrick hissed, leaning down so he was almost nose to nose with the servant and grabbing the collar of Merlin's jacket to pull him even closer. "You will soon find yourself using it to polish those same boots, if I have my way."

"That's enough, Sir Derrick," Arthur said, striding purposefully towards the pair without giving the appearance of rushing. After all, his father was watching, arms crossed and frowning with displeasure, and Arthur was quite certain it was _not_ directed at the knight. "I thought you had declined your turn to fight, but I will be more than happy to reinstate your name on the list."

Sir Derrick let go of Merlin, giving the servant a push before turning and standing to face the Prince. "No, Sire. I simply thought to teach the boy some manners, but as you are here I shall leave that to you." The knight gave a last glare at Merlin before turning his back on the servant, nodding to the Prince and finally retrieving his weapons. He stalked off the field, his brother trotting after him to catch up.


	9. Hard-Working - Part 3

**Hard-Working – Part 3**

"Breakfast now, or bath first?" Merlin asked, as Arthur pushed open the door to his chambers and stepped inside.

The two young men had not spoken since they had left the training field, other than for Arthur to order Merlin to pick up and carry his weapons back to the castle. The Prince had walked ahead of his servant. He was becoming uneasy about the glares Uther seemed to have been aiming at Merlin for the last couple of days, and thought it would be best to treat his servant like, well, a _servant._ At least while in public.

Merlin did not even notice. He was too busy trying not to drop everything while keeping up with the Prince. The warlock risked a stabilizing spell when Arthur's mace threatened to drop off the pile in his arms for the _fourth_ _time_. It was something that he'd learned how to do when he was still a baby piling rocks or sticks for the fun of it. It required no words and only the barest hint of golden eyes.

"Hmm…. breakfast, I think," Arthur answered, as Merlin walked over and set Arthur's things down on the floor beside the fireplace. "You can get my bath while I am eating."

Merlin yawned as he came over to help Arthur remove his hauberk, placing the mail shirt on the pile with the rest of the things he would need to clean and polish. "Fine, I'll be right back with it," he said, reaching out towards Arthur's gambeson.

"Never mind this," Arthur said, blocking Merlin's hand. "I can manage the rest myself, so go ahead and get the food now," he added from somewhere within the fabric. "I need to attend the council meeting this morning, so I do not have a lot of time to spare."

Merlin began to walk towards the door, "All right, I should be back in no time."

"Merlin," called out the Prince before the servant slipped out the door. "Make sure there are plenty of sausages. I'm _starving_!"

* * *

Merlin was soon back with the Prince's breakfast - _five_ large sausages were heaped on the plate along with a soft bread roll, a chunk of cheese and a sliced pear. He lay the tray on the desk and waited for Arthur to put down his quill and set aside the report he'd been working on. "Here you go, that should hold you until lunch," Merlin said, pushing the tray in front of the Prince.

Arthur took an appreciative sniff, "Yes, perfect," he said, picking up his fork while the servant poured a cup of tea for him.

"I'll go and get the bath ready now," Merlin said swallowing a yawn and scrubbing at his tired eyes. "Or do you want me to take care of that first?" he asked, cocking his head towards the dirty pile of weapons.

Arthur frowned and leaned forward, peering intently at his servant. "Merlin, are you all right?" he asked.

Merlin's eyes widened, surprised to hear the Prince's concern. "Yeah, just starting to feel like I was up all night," he said with a smile.

"Yes, that, and also… I did not realize that Sir Derrick had hit you so hard," Arthur said, gesturing at Merlin's cheek. "You are going to need Gaius to put some salve or something on that."

The servant reached up and winced when he touched the sore spot. He could feel the heat of the bruise where Sir Derrick had struck him. "It's not so bad," he said.

Arthur put his fork down, still frowning. "Once I am finished my bath, I want you to go home and get that seen to and then get some rest. I won't need you until lunch."

"Really?" Merlin asked, not quite believing that he'd been given almost an entire morning off.

"Yes,really, _Mer_ lin," Arthur answered, shaking his head fondly at his servant. "Now go and get started so you can get finished and then to bed. I don't want you fainting in my soup at lunch."

* * *

Eager to take Arthur up on his generous offer of a morning of rest, Merlin hurried to fill the Prince's bath, and appreciated that Arthur decided not to linger for a long soak. Before long, Arthur was clean, dressed and almost ready to go back out.

"Merlin, where are my gauntlets?" the Prince asked, as the servant finished fastening the buckle of his belt. Arthur was looking at the armour and weapons that were still lying beside the fireplace where Merlin had dumped them when they'd first come into the room.

"Uh, did you have them on when we came back from the field?" the servant asked with a frown. "I definitely didn't bring _them_ ; just your _toys;_ but I don't remember you taking them off either," he admitted. Merlin yawned as he pushed aside the changing screen so he could see the pile more clearly.

Arthur snorted. " _Toys_ ," he muttered under his breath, but scratched his nose as he thought. "I took them off once I downed the last competitor," he said turning abruptly to look at his servant. "You must have forgotten to collect them."

Merlin stopped what he was doing. " _I_ forgot?" he spluttered. "You were at the other end of the field, and I already had an armful of all of your other stuff! How was I supposed to even notice that you'd left them there?" He sighed and shook his head when Arthur only smirked. "Fine, I'll go and fetch them for you as soon as I've finished putting the bath things away."

"No, I will go myself, Merlin," Arthur answered, dropping his teasing tone. "I've already given you your orders for the morning and I expect them to be obeyed. Finish what you are doing, and then go and get some sleep."

Merlin frowned, "But Arthur, I've still got all of the weapons to clean. You were in and out of the bath so quickly that I did not get a chance to even _start_ on them, and they should not be left until the afternoon."

"Perhaps not," Arthur answered, "but they _shall_ be left this once. I won't be needing them; I've told you – I will be in the Council chambers all morning."

Merlin looked doubtful, but Arthur did not give him a chance to answer.

"Look, I was not kidding when I mentioned fainting in the soup," Arthur insisted. "You may not think I notice, but I do, and I _know_ how hard you have been working over the last several days."

"But… _everybody_ has been busy…all of the servants…" Merlin responded.

Arthur cut him off, shaking his head fondly, "Yes, but most of _them_ don't have duties for two masters, _three_ if you include what the Steward is having you do to prepare for the tournament, nor do they work as a servant all day and a physician all night. Everybody has a breaking point, Merlin, and I want you to get some rest before you reach yours."

Merlin stared at the Prince, his tired mind not able to organize his thoughts enough to let him reply. "I…but …. I…." he stammered before hurrying to cover his mouth as a huge yawn threatened to escape him.

"Exactly," Arthur snickered. "Now, are we clear?"

"Y-yes Sire," Merlin answered, holding Arthur's eyes. "I will sleep until lunchtime. And … thank you."

* * *

Arthur left his chambers while Merlin was still emptying the bath, but not without a last reminder for the servant to obey his _orders._

Merlin smiled to himself, warmed by the Prince's concern although he did not see why Arthur had been so insistent. _Naturally_ he was a little bit tired from having been up all night, but it was nothing he was not used to. He stood up and put Arthur's sponge and soap cake away, but was unable to stop yet another yawn as he grabbed the Prince's damp towel and tossed it into the clothes basket. Okay, so maybe he was a _lot_ tired.

"But I can't just leave with the room in _this_ state," he muttered, looking around in dismay. Arthur's bed was still unmade, the nightclothes along with the Prince's gambeson, muddied trousers and tunic were strewn about the floor, the breakfast dishes were cluttered at the edge of his desk, with the quill, inkstand and parchments spread across the rest of it. "It won't take long to do most of this," he decided, "and _then_ I can go."

Merlin got to work. A flash of his eyes had the bed making itself while he picked up the dirty clothes. The young warlock realized at once that he had been reckless to use magic, so the rest of his chores were done without. There were simply too many people in the corridors and at this time of day Arthur's doors were left unbarred so that the servants in charge of bringing wood for the fire and changing the tapers and other such morning tasks could go about their work freely.

Even without his magic Merlin quickly took care of the mess and soon only the pile of muddied weapons and armour were left untouched. The servant picked up the clothes basket and set the dirty dishes on top of it, intending to drop them off on his way home. He took a few steps towards the door and then turned and looked around once again. The room was definitely in _much_ better shape than it had been earlier, but still Merlin scowled. Maybe he was being silly due to his fatigue but he just could not _bear_ the idea of leaving Arthur's mail and sword among the other things in the heap on the floor.

Merlin sighed and put his basket back down. Surely Arthur would not get angry if he just cleaned and polished those two things before he left for the morning. After all, it was still early and he would have plenty of time to sleep afterward. Finally, Merlin did the only thing he could; he went over and opened the bench near the fireplace, took out the polishing rags that Arthur let him store there for convenience, sat down on the floor and picked up Arthur's hauberk.

It did not take long for Merlin to have both the mail shirt and the sword gleaming. He set them aside and decided to start on Arthur's boots, although this time it was more because he was too tired to stand up and leave the room than because he still had any driving need to keep cleaning. The servant was halfway through brushing the dried dirt off of the first boot when the fatigue from the last few days caught up to him. The rhythmic motion coupled with the comforting warmth of the fire at his back began to lull him to sleep.

* * *

The candle had burnt down by less then half the width of a finger when the King walked unannounced into Arthur's chambers. Merlin had fallen so deeply into slumber within that short time that he did not notice the visitor until Uther prodded him none-too-gently with his boot.

"I _trust_ I am not disturbing you," the King snapped, causing Merlin to awaken with a start.

The servant dropped the boot which he had somehow still been holding and jumped to his feet, his hand brushing the mail shirt that he had set on the bench earlier and knocking it right onto the floor. "N-no, Sire. Of course not," he stammered, "I was just…"

"I can _see_ _exactly_ what you were doing," the King cut him off. "Now, where is my son?" he added, advancing on the nervous servant.

Merlin took a defensive step backward. "He's… he's gone to get his gauntlets, Sire," he said. "H-he left them at the training ground. This morning. Um ... after the demonstration."

Uther stepped towards the servant and leaned in. "You mean to tell me that _he_ is running around looking for gloves when he is _supposed_ to be at Council, and that his _servant_ is _here_ _having a_ _nap_?" the King growled, each word louder than the last until he was almost shouting.

"I…yes, Sire," Merlin answered, shuffling back another few steps to get away from the King's wrath. The servant was beginning to panic; his breath was quickening and his heart was pounding so hard that he was sure the King could hear it. "I mean … well, he thought he had time enough before the meeting…"

Uther narrowed his eyes at the servant, and Merlin wished he knew what the man was going to do. He even had a brief and irrational moment of fear wondering if the King could _execute_ him for falling asleep on the job, and knew it was pointless to try to explain the reasons why he _had_ done so.

"You may count yourself lucky that Arthur is right," Uther said coldly. "Otherwise I would be sacking you on the spot."

Merlin's eyes and mouth flew open, and the blood drained from his face. "But…" was all he managed to choke out, his panic growing.

"And I may yet do so," the King threatened, "But let us see if spending the rest of the morning in the stocks will help you to stay awake." He glared at Merlin, adding, "I suggest that you use the time to reflect on how to properly serve a Prince of Camelot."

Merlin bowed his head in resignation. "Yes, Sire," he said.

* * *

The unhappy servant sat in front of Gaius not long after the midday bells had rung. Once he had been released from the stocks, he had rushed to his chambers to wash up and change his clothes, hoping to get straight back to work. Unfortunately, Gaius had taken one look at the state of his cheek and forced him to stay and have it looked after.

"Hold still, Merlin," said the elderly physician catching hold of his ward's hand and pushing it down and away from the bruising. "I'm not finished with you yet."

"I could have done this… _ow! Not so hard_! ... myself," Merlin complained as Gaius spread some sort of green goop on his face. "I don't even think I need it; it hardly hurts."

Gaius chuckled but did not stop his ministrations. For all of his magical powers and his great destiny, Merlin was still very young and occasionally the little boy inside him made an appearance. The old man sobered and continued more gently, for he also knew that those moments were rare and always due to situations of great fatigue, or illness or worry. "Almost done, Merlin," he said, finishing his work with a few last strokes.

"There, now stay put while I pour you a cup of tea," the physician said, as he bustled over to where he already had a pot of water bubbling over a flame. "And I will get you a dose of headache remedy," he added, reaching for a bottle of viscous, brown liquid on the lowest shelf, just above the work table.

"Thanks, Gaius," Merlin said gratefully, "But how did you know I had a headache?"

Gaius chuckled again. "A physician's instinct," he answered with a smile, setting the cup and bottle down in front of his ward, along with a plate of bread and cheese. "That and the fact that you were as white as a ghost when you stumbled in, at least in those places where you were not covered in rotten vegetables, and you had your eyes half closed in pain and were pressing your temples like you were trying to keep your head together. It was reasonably short leap of intuition." He watched Merlin and frowned when the young man downed the foul-tasting remedy without even a grimace. "Can you take any time to rest?" he asked.

"No, I'm afraid not," the servant answered. "I was meant to bring Arthur his lunch, and I'm already late."

Gaius could only shake his head in consternation as Merlin tried to hurry through his own snack.

Just as the warlock was finishing his last few bites, someone knocked loudly at the door, and a knight in the colours of Gawant stepped into the room. "Are you Gaius?" the man asked.

"I am," the physician answered, "Do you have need of my services?"

The knight quickly crossed the large room to join Gaius near the table where Merlin was still sitting. "Yes," he said. "My liege Lord Branok took a fall as we were riding to Camelot. We think he may have broken his ankle."

Gaius glanced towards Merlin. Lord Branok was a good friend of Uther's and was well known and liked in Camelot. Merlin had attended him on his last visit and had enjoyed the man's wit and kindness.

"I was charged with riding on ahead so that you may prepare for his arrival," the knight continued. "The rest of the men are moving slowly and should arrive at late afternoon. We have wrapped my Lord's ankle, and he was in good spirits and still able to sit his horse when I left them, but naturally he is in pain."

"Merlin, perhaps Prince Arthur would spare you to help me when they arrive," Gaius said, turning to his ward.

Merlin stood to join the other men, "I'm sure he will insist," he said. "Especially when he knows it is for Lord Branok."

* * *

"Here you are, I'm sorry I'm so late, but I got … held up," Merlin apologized, as he set the lunch tray down in front of Arthur.

The Prince put down his quill and looked up at his servant with a smirk. "Oh, is that right?" he asked. "I've heard a rumour that you were out collecting vegetables for my table?"

Merlin rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Something like that," he answered with a smile. "And if you don't mind, I want to avoid doing the same thing again for your dinner, so I will just finish up the rest of the polishing in case your father decides to make another visit." Once he had poured Arthur a cup of wine, the servant headed over to where the dirty pile was still waiting for him, grabbed his cleaning cloth and sat down on the floor to get to work.

Arthur turned around to study the young man for a moment. "I know you must not have gotten the sleep you were supposed to, but you still look a bit better than you did this morning," he said.

"Yeah, I do feel a lot better. Gaius made sure of it," Merlin admitted, looking up from the shine he was putting on Arthur's boot. He started to bow his head over his work once more, but stopped after one rub, looking back up at the Prince. "Arthur, did you know that Lord Branok was injured on the way to Camelot?"

Arthur's eyes widened, "No, I had not heard. We were expecting him to arrive within the next few days. He is always early for a tournament so he and my father can catch up on old times." The Prince frowned, "How did you hear about it? Is he badly hurt?"

"It's not life-threatening or anything," Merlin answered. "The knight who came to see Gaius thought he may have broken his ankle." The servant caught his tongue between his teeth as he rubbed at a particularly stubborn piece of mud, looking back up once he had removed it. "Gaius wanted me to help get him to the infirmary when he arrives, if that's alright."

"Yes, of course," answered Arthur, without hesitation.

"And once I've finished up in here, I thought I might ask the Steward if I could prepare a room for him on the main floor," Merlin continued. "He was meant to be quartered on the fourth, but that would be far too much climbing."

Arthur nodded his head. "That sounds like a good idea," he answered. "And before you ask, yes, I can do without you for the afternoon for such a good cause." He looked at the stack of reports on his desk, "Although…."

"Although what?" Merlin asked, following Arthur's gaze. "Did you need me to bring those somewhere?"

The Prince pursed his lips in thought for a moment, "N… no. Never mind. I am not quite finished with them yet."

"Arthur, are you sure?" Merlin asked, narrowing his eyes. "I can stay if you are going to need me. After all, it _is_ my job."

Arthur chuckled. "Yes, I am sure," he answered. "I would rather you make sure that Lord Branok is cared for properly." He picked up his quill and pulled the report he had been working on back towards himself. "If I finish before you are ready to leave, I _promise_ to let you bring them to my father," he added.

"Oh, well I feel _much_ better about it now," Merlin said with a laugh.

"Just make sure you are back in time to get me ready for dinner _,"_ Arthur said, smiling back at his servant. "I don't think I will last through another evening with our current guests; not without you bumbling around doing things I can laugh at you for in any case."

Merlin grinned, "I would not dare to let you down, Sire."

* * *

Uther strode down the corridor leading to his son's chambers. He had been expecting Arthur's servant to bring an important set of reports to the Council chambers before midafternoon, but it was now late afternoon, and still there had been no sign of the boy.

The King had been about to send a servant to collect the papers, but decided to pay a visit to Arthur instead. He reasoned that the quiet of Arthur's chambers would be more conducive to discussion, but also had to admit to himself that he wanted ensure that his son's servant had taken heed of his threat and was hard at work.

Uther narrowed his eyes. If not, Merlin would find himself with new masters by dinner time.

* * *

"Hello, Father," Arthur said, looking up from the report he was working on at Uther's entry into the room. "I assume you are here to review the reports?"

Uther nodded sternly. "Yes, I expected you to have sent them long before now," he said, frowning when he looked around to find that Arthur was the room's only occupant.

"I'm sorry I am late with them," Arthur apologized, "I still have two more to go through." He put down his quill and pulled out a parchment which had been set down apart from the rest of the pile of completed reports. "The numbers in the road construction statements from East Durwich did not match with what Lord Jarod proposed last fall. It took some time but I verified it twice, and have made a few annotations."

Uther frowned and came across the room and took the parchment that Arthur held out to him. "You are right," he said after looking through the Prince's notes. "They have ordered almost twice as much stone and wood as should have been needed."

"Yes, that was my conclusion too," Arthur said. "It may simply have been a mistake; I went back to check two of Lord Jarod's other statements, and did not see any other anomalies."

Uther handed the report back to Arthur. "I will have the clerk take a closer look, but you are probably right. Lord Jarod does not have a history of being underhanded in his dealings."

Arthur put the parchment back where he'd taken it, and picked up his quill again, uncertain of whether he should continue his work.

"I will wait here while you finish those," said Uther, gesturing at the parchment waiting for Arthur's attention.

As his son bent back over the reports, soon lost in concentration, Uther folded his arms and walked towards the window so not to disturb him. He scowled and looked around the room, confirming that Arthur's serving boy was not anywhere in sight. He was somewhat surprised not to find any signs of further laziness; the room was spotless, the armour and weapons that had been in a muddy pile at midmorning had been cleared away, and Arthur had a snack and a goblet of wine placed neatly beside him on the desk.

The King turned and almost asked his son where the servant had gotten to, but rapidly decided that the question could wait. A small part of him kept insisting that the answer was, in fact, beneath his notice, while another was feeling angry, sure that the boy was at the tavern or perhaps even _fishing_ again or other such nonsense.

Uther tightened his lips and turned towards the window. He was fed up with having to think about the boy. The King decided that as soon as Arthur was finished with the reports, he _would_ ask about the servant's whereabouts, and when Arthur confirmed Uther's suspicions, the boy would immediately be tracked down and handed over to Sir Derrick and Lord Reginald.

The King allowed himself a smile, glad that the vexing issue of Arthur's manservant was about to be put to rest once and for all. With his decision made, he turned to look out of the large windows in Arthur's chambers, happy for the chance to watch the daily bustle of his Kingdom for even a short time.

He almost groaned when the first thing he spied, heading towards the gates to the courtyard, was the very object of his contempt. The King's eyes flashed with anger and he watched as his son's servant turned back towards the castle entrance to wave a greeting to somebody who must have called out to him. Uther could not make out who the person was until the man stepped past the cart that had been blocking his view. He was surprised when he recognized his Steward, and leaned forward with interest, certain that the man must be about to reprimand the young servant. Surely it had been as Uther guessed and the boy had been shirking his duties.

The Steward made his way over to Merlin, and the King could see them talking animatedly. Merlin nodded his head several times, and pointed over towards the Eastern wing of the castle, making some gestures that the Steward obviously understood although Uther could not interpret. Finally, in answer to some question the Steward asked, Merlin cocked his head over towards the gate where he'd been heading before he had stopped.

Uther waited expectantly for the Steward to become angry and order Merlin back into the castle, but to the King's immense surprise, the man smiled broadly and clapped the servant on the shoulder with obvious approval before turning back and leaving the boy to continue on his way.

"Arthur, what is your manservant doing?" the King blurted out, causing Arthur to look up from where he was still working on the last report.

"Oh, is he out there?" the Prince answered, making a last note on his parchment and setting it aside. He put down his quill and pushed his chair out, before walking over to join his father at the window. "I guess Lord Branok must be arriving."

Uther turned to look at his son, wondering what connection there was between his injured friend and the young manservant, but his attention was drawn back to the window when Arthur said, 'Yes, there he is.' The King watched as the ailing noble rode slowly in through the gates, his knights surrounding him and watching his every move.

As soon as they came into the courtyard, Merlin jogged over and immediately took charge. Uther saw him consulting briefly with Lord Branok's knights before they sent him through to the noble. Merlin greeted the older man with a smile, and Uther was surprised to see his friend return it. Based on the way they were speaking to each other, it appeared as though the two were already acquainted and what was more, that Lord Branok had some sort of _affection_ for the boy.

Uther continued to watch as Merlin got down to business. He seemed to be asking for permission to take a look at the older man's ankle, and once it was granted the servant quickly and carefully removed the noble's boot and handed it over to one of the waiting knights. The boy unwrapped the bandages and studied Lord Branok's foot for a few moments; Uther could see the young man frown slightly as he moved closer to the man's horse, bending down and trying to get a closer look at the inner side of the ankle without causing the noble any undue pain.

Apparently satisfied with what he had seen, the servant straightened and stepped back. He said something to Lord Branok, who nodded with resignation, although Uther also saw him share a small smile with the serving boy.

Merlin turned back to the waiting knights, and beckoned at three of them to follow him as he led the injured noble's horse nearer to the castle steps. Once they had reached their destination, the servant directed two of the knights to help their Lord to dismount in a way that would not cause him to put any weight on the injured foot and after handing the horse's reins over to the third, Merlin trotted up the stairs after his charge.

"Do you want to take a look at the rest of the reports now, Father?" Arthur asked, startling the King who was still staring over at the now empty palace staircase, not quite certain of what he had just witnessed.

"Yes… of course," he answered, forcing his concentration back to what he had come to Arthur's chambers for in the first place.

As he followed his son back towards the desk, he thought back to what he had seen. Uther had been mistaken about the servant spending the afternoon in the tavern, of that there was no question. The King could also not deny that both his Steward and Lord Branok had favoured the boy. The Steward's reaction was especially confusing; the man was a _very_ strict disciplinarian with the household staff and Uther would have expected him to treat a servant of Merlin's lazy reputation with disdain even if the boy _had_ been working satisfactorily that particular afternoon.

Uther sighed. It looked like he would need to spend yet _more_ time paying attention to the servant's working habits before he would be able to make his decision.

* * *

A/N So Uther _finally_ has a teeny glimpse.


	10. Hard-Working - Part 4

**Hard-Working - Part 4**

"There you go, My Lord," said Merlin, setting a goblet of wine along with a plate of bread and cheese on the table in Lord Branok's room just beside a vial of Gaius most effective pain-relieving draught. "You are to take that right after you eat," the servant explained.

After he'd helped Gaius to bind the noble's ankle, Merlin had happily volunteered to escort the man to his rooms. The physician did not want to risk his patient falling due to being unfamiliar with using crutches. The servant had also run down to the kitchen for the snack Gaius had ordered him to take with his medication.

"Thank you, my boy," Lord Branok said, reaching over to take the cheese. "My foot feels better already, just for having been fussed over."

Merlin smiled. The man certainly looked better than he had when Merlin had helped him into the infirmary; the lines of pain around his eyes had eased and colour had returned to his face. "I'm not surprised. Gaius is the best physician in Camelot," he said proudly. "But your ankle will feel even better once you've taken this draught. I can promise you that."

"I do not doubt it, young man," answered the Lord. "In fact, I'm quite certain that I will be able to attend dinner with the King tonight. He left an invitation, but I was worried I would have to decline."

"Oh, well I will make sure he gets the message," said Merlin. "But if you go, you need to promise to use those crutches like Gaius showed you. We don't want you falling and breaking the _other_ ankle, now do we?"

Lord Branok laughed, wincing when he moved the injured foot the wrong way. "No, we do _not_ ," he agreed. "I give you my word," he said solemnly, following up with a wink.

"Now, if you are settled, I'd better get going with Gaius' deliveries." Merlin said, picking up his bag from where it sat on the floor, pushed up against the leg of the table. "Someone will be in to collect your dishes shortly, and I'll be back with more of Gaius' pain medication once I've finished getting Arthur ready for the dinner. You can take it before you set out for the Great Hall."

* * *

Merlin's first destination after taking his leave of Lord Branok was Sir Robert's house so that he could talk to Lady Miriam and check up on her twins. He was pleased to find the young family doing well, and laughed when he spotted Sir Robert cooing proudly over a particularly large belch that his baby made when the wet nurse handed the child to him after a feeding.

Sir Robert was still so enthralled by his new sons that he had not even noticed Merlin coming into the house. He stayed oblivious even when his wife replaced the babe in his arms with the other newborn, so that she could give the first to Merlin. The knight's adoring gaze shifted immediately to the tiny face in the tightly swaddled bundle he'd just been handed, his finger reaching up to gently stroke the silky cheek.

It did not take very long for Merlin to check everything that Gaius had requested and to confirm that both babies were in good health. After having a word with the midwife to see if she had any concerns that she wanted to pass on to the physician, he left the happy new parents to their sons and headed back to the castle to continue on with the rest of his deliveries.

* * *

Merlin quickly finished distributing all manner of salves, tinctures, draughts and lozenges, first in the lower town and then on returning to the castle, to the guests' wing, the servants' quarters and even to the Steward, who had asked for a headache remedy for his wife.

Finally, all that remained were the medications destined for the nobles and knights who lived in the castle. Merlin had left this for last, since their living quarters were in the same wing as Arthur's chambers. This way, once he was finished he would be able to go straight to the Prince's room in order to get Arthur ready for the evening.

The servant hurried up the broad stairway which opened up into a wide landing with corridors leading towards the knights'quarters on one side and the Royal apartments on the other. It was later than he had expected; the light was getting dim and even as he climbed the last steps, another servant was already beginning to light the torches in the sconces all along the walls.

Merlin crossed the landing and put his bag down on the window ledge, reaching in to pull out the list that Gaius had given him. As he studied it, he could not help a snicker from escaping when he realized that virtually every remaining entry on it was for a bottle of Gaius' special extra-strength liniment and all of the bottles were destined for knights who were to compete in the tournament a few days later.

Merlin guessed that they had been training hard to prepare, and had found they were not _quite_ as fighting fit as they had supposed. The servant scanned the list again and was pleased to notice that none of the young knights under Arthur's command were on it, although he was not surprised. The Prince would not have stood for any of _his_ men to be in less than top condition, even though the months since the treaty with Mercier had been ratified had been relatively peaceful.

Sighing, Merlin put the list back into his bag. Apparently, there were a _lot_ of knights that had been neglecting their training, since his bag certainly seemed to be much fuller than was usual when he came to this wing. It was also _heavy,_ although he was not sure why he had only just noticed, given that more than half of the bottles had already been delivered.

The young warlock stifled a yawn as he hefted his bag onto his shoulder. He had barely had a chance to sit down since he'd left the room he shared with Gaius several hours earlier, and guessed that his sleepless night was simply catching up with him again. He sighed once more, checked that nobody was in the hallway, and turning towards the wall just in case, allowed a tiny thread of magic to lighten his pack. Hitching it a bit higher on his shoulder, he turned and began to walk down the corridor towards the unmarried knights' quarters.

* * *

Full darkness had fallen outside the castle by the time Merlin handed over the last bottle of liniment to a middle-aged knight who took it without a word, frowned and shut the door in the servant's face.

"You're welcome, my Lord," said Merlin to the closed door, loudly enough that the man on the other side would have heard it, although Merlin was not sure what good he expected it would do.

The servant walked a few steps towards where the torchlight was brightest along the wall, and stopped to consult his list in order to make sure he had not missed anything. Gaius always gave him extra doses of some of the more common remedies such as salves and headache cures, so not unexpectedly, his bag was not quite empty.

Just when the servant was about to put the list back in his bag having confirmed that he was indeed finished with his task, an unwelcome voice broke into his concentration.

"We've been looking for you," said Sir Derrick from where he and his brother stood just inside the entrance to the hallway.

* * *

Unknown to the three men, the King, who had been on his way to his son's quarters, had also caught sight of the two brothers and had wondered what they were up to. They had no business being in this wing of the castle and had no friends among the Camelot nobility as far as Uther knew.

The King was suspicious. His opinion of the men had waned substantially since they had arrived. None of their requests, such as the ridiculous fair they wished to hold in their lands, had been backed by any type of evidence as to the benefits, and their behaviour could only be described as sycophantic and cowardly.

When he saw them enter the corridor leading towards the knights' quarters, Uther decided follow the pair to question them about their business. He stopped when he heard them talking to someone who must have been just on the other side of the opening and, peering around the corner, was surprised to see that they were speaking with his son's manservant.

Uther narrowed his eyes in anger, wondering if they were using the boy to carry out some subterfuge. He stepped back so he was out of view again, and decided to listen to what they were planning. If the three were in some sort of collusion, he would banish all three from Camelot for life.

* * *

Merlin straightened and looked toward the brothers uncertainly. "You were looking for me?" he asked. "Why?" Like the King, the servant had no idea why the nobles were in the knights' wing of the castle; the visitors were housed in the part of the building on the other side of the courtyard. The way Sir Derrick was closing in on him did not bode well though.

"Well, yes," the knight replied. "We've had a spill in our quarters, an entire goblet of wine … such a waste," he sneered, "and we need someone to come and clean it up, don't we brother."

Lord Reginald smiled coldly, "Indeed we do. Your Steward told us he would send you to us, but we decided that we'd waited long enough and came to find you for ourselves."

Merlin took a step back away from the men and narrowed his eyes. He did not believe that the Steward had said any such thing. There was no way the man would assign him to such a trivial task, and definitely no good reason why the two nobles would come looking for him half the castle away.

"I don't think…" he began, shaking his head and taking another step back from Sir Derrick who had continued to advance on him. "I'm afraid you will have to ask one of the servants assigned to your wing," he continued carefully. "I'm just about to go to attend to my master. The _Prince_. I will not be finished with those duties until it is time for dinner to be served."

"We do not want another servant," Sir Derrick replied, grabbing Merlin's arm as the young man tried to back further away. "The Prince will have to wait. We intend to show you what it is like to serve _real_ men."

Merlin's eyes flew open, and hidden outside the corridor, the King's did too. The servant twisted and managed to throw off Sir Derrick's hold, using the man's surprise to put some distance between them. Unfortunately, he'd backed himself against the wall of a store room which jutted out from the wall, and with Lord Reginald advancing on him from the other direction, Merlin's escape route was cut off.

"Now, now, don't be coy," said Lord Reginald. "The King is going to sell you to us, did you not know?"

Merlin paled and tried to edge out from where he was cornered but Sir Derrick moved to block him.

"And he would not disagree with us testing the merchandise, now would he," said the knight moving in closer.

Merlin thought back to the looks of contempt that Uther had been sending his way over the past few days and wondered if they had indeed been discussing him. The King could not really 'sell' him, but if these nobles had offered to hire Merlin and Uther was so inclined, the King _could_ make it almost impossible for him to refuse.

Sir Derrick reached out in another attempt to grab Merlin's arm, but the servant pushed him back so forcefully that the man stumbled back and fell to the floor in an undignified heap. "I am a servant and not a _slave_ to be sold," Merlin shouted, his eyes flashing with anger. "And Arthur would never permit it. Even if he did, I would _quit_ before I ever set a foot into your chambers. Now leave me to get back to my duties!"

Lord Reginald grinned at the young servant's vehemence, and seemed amused that the boy had managed to knock his brother to the floor. "Derrick, this one needs to learn his place," the noble laughed, "And it is going to be _such_ a pleasure to teach it to him."

"Oh yes," Sir Derrick hissed, his fists clenched as he advanced on Merlin again after having risen back to his feet. He shared a lecherous grin with this brother before glaring at Merlin. "Believe me, boy, you will soon be learning some much better uses for that mouth than talking back to your betters."

Merlin gulped, feeling sickened by the things that the brothers seemed to have in mind for him. He considered using his magic to get away, but there was no way he could do it without being reported to the King. His eyes darted left and right looking for another opening while a logical part of his brain reasoned that they could not very well _drag_ him all the way to their quarters; he'd surely be able to escape their hold and dart down the other corridor to Arthur's chambers if they tried.

"His behaviour should not really surprise us," said Lord Reginald conversationally as his brother loomed threateningly over Merlin, studying him as though deciding how best to force the servant to accompany them back to their quarters. "Prince Arthur obviously does not use a strong enough hand on him, given what we have seen the boy get away with."

Sir Derrick snorted. "And if the Prince is incapable of making even a precocious serving boy follow his orders, I hate to think about what is in store for Camelot when he is our leader. _You_ did not hear what this servant dared to say to me on the field this morning, Reginald," he said, turning his head slightly so he could keep Merlin in his sights while talking to his brother. "And the Prince _defended_ him."

"I believe it, Derrick," Reginald said. "But I have no doubts that our plans for the tournament will show everyone just how unfit he is as a knight." When his brother chuckled, the noble continued, "Mind you, the King is no better. After all, he has seen firsthand the same laziness and misbehaviour as _we_ have all week, and yet he _still_ allows the boy to serve his son." He grinned menacingly at Merlin. "Although _that_ will not last for very much longer, I am certain," he said.

Merlin gritted his teeth and held back the magic that wanted to lash out and sweep the leering men from their feet. He had had enough of their threats, but an action like that in the middle of the knights' quarters would only land him in bigger trouble.

"At least we shall have _some_ compensation for this fruitless trip to Camelot," Sir Derrick continued, taking a step towards Merlin, while focussing his attention on his brother. "The King is willing to negotiate with us about _servants._ It is unfortunate that he has not the wisdom to heed our counsel on matters of far more importance - such as our insights on how best to improve the prosperity of our estates." Both brothers were still bitter over Uther's refusal to grant permission for the fair they had requested.

Merlin's anger finally peaked at the insults to Uther and, more importantly, to Arthur. "That is your _King_ you are talking about!" the servant hissed, his hands clenched tightly into fists and crumpling the parchment he still held, his nostrils flaring. Even though Merlin did not appreciate Uther's strict belief that bloodlines determined a man's capacity for honour nor, of course his psychosis against magic users, the servant could still see that the man was a good ruler, in his way. After all, Camelot was prosperous and relatively peaceful within its borders.

From what Merlin had learned of them, _these_ particularnobles had less grounds than most for criticising their King and it was almost laughable that they believed their silly, or so Arthur had said, ideas were worthy of his consideration. "You should show some _respect!"_ he spat.

Sir Derrick and Lord Reginald both narrowed their eyes at the sudden and unexpectedly heated rejoinder from the young, scrawny and presumably weak servant and Derrick halted his advance momentarily, but Merlin's temper had not subsided even yet.

"And you _dare_ to insult Prince Arthur!" the young servant seethed. "He is worth _ten_ of you. From what I saw, _you_ were bested by a muddy field and Arthur did not even need to lift his sword against you," he said, glaring at Sir Derrick. " _Hardly_ the sort of men that our King would want to accept advice from on the running of his kingdom. And as for Ar… Prince Arthur, he does not haveto _order_ me to do anything. I do what he asks willingly because he is a great knight and will be a great King someday."

* * *

Uther shook his head from where he still stood out of sight near the entry to the corridor. The boy was loyal and, he had to admit, right on all accounts. However, he doubted that Sir Derrick would agree, and Uther could guess how the boy's conversation was certain to end.

A loud "thud," marked the sound of something – hand or foot, Uther could not tell, connecting with tender flesh, and that, along with the inevitable grunt of pain following immediately afterward, proved the King right.

* * *

"You have just earned yourself a _very_ difficult initiation into our household once the King hands you over to us," Lord Reginald snarled at the servant who was pinned against the wall by his brother. "And we _could_ have made it so easy and pleasant for you."

Sir Derrick gave Merlin another hard punch to the abdomen, causing the servant to drop his bag with a crackle of shattering glass bottles as he doubled over and sank to the floor, clutching his midsection in pain. The glaring knight swept the bag out of the way with his foot and then drove his boot into Merlin's side, knocking him over and making him bite his lips to keep from crying out.

"And _I_ will not need to order you to do anything either," the knight growled at the prone servant. "You will _jump_ to do what Iask, and just as willingly as you do for the Prince, because if you do not…" he threatened, not needing to finish the sentence as the meaning was perfectly clear.

The two brothers shared a predatory look as they watched Merlin struggle back to a sitting position and lean against the wall for support, glaring at them in outrage.

Lord Reginald came forward a step, a false, conciliatory smile pasted on his face. "However, naturally, if you agree to come with us to our chambers in accordance with your original orders," the noble purred, as if it were only reasonable and he was about to do Merlin a great favour, "to … clean up the spilled wine…, then I am willing to forget your insolence as if it had never happened," he continued.

Merlin's brows furrowed in anger. "I would not agree even if the King himself were here to command it," the servant snapped back fiercely, making a cry of pain when Sir Derrick grabbed his arm roughly and started to haul him upwards.

Merlin was confident that he could talk his way out of any permanent reassignment to the lecherous nobles, and would follow through on his threat to quit, if not. But he also knew that if Uther personally handed him over to the brothers, he may not be able to do so right away and he desperately wanted to avoid spending any time alone with them in their quarters. He only hoped he had not just increased that likelihood.

"Never mind, Derrick," said Reginald, as though satisfied, or even _happy_ with Merlin's refusal. He watched his brother release the young man, who sank back to the floor nursing his arm.

Taking a few steps towards the servant, the nobleman leaned in so close that he was almost face to face with the boy. "Tsk, tsk, tsk," he said, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "You have refused a direct order from a noble," he said, "and that was not very wise, was it?"

When all he got from Merlin was a defiant glare, Lord Reginald straightened and turned to his brother. "Well then Derrick, I think this idiot has now provided us with everything that we need. Even our King will not fail to see that our proposal to deal with him is warranted."

Merlin's heart plummeted at hearing the words. He had no idea what the 'proposal' was, but it would not end well for him. Of that he was certain.

"You had better go home and pack, boy," sneered Lord Reginald. "I'd say you will be ours before morning, and make no mistake, after we've got you, we shall not be letting you out of our rooms until we leave Camelot."

* * *

The King moved back into a small recessed opening in the wall close to where he stood, and waited until the two nobles strode past and headed for the stairs. The brothers did not notice him, and Uther felt a bit foolish for _hiding_ and for being glad that they had not caught him listening in to their 'conversation' with his son's manservant.

He _could_ have had them punished for publicly insulting their King and their Prince. He _could_ also have had the servant punished for arguing with the nobles and refusing to accede to their direct demands. The latter would have provided the King with the exact opportunity he had been looking for to get rid of the serving boy. He did neither.

Uther waited until the two brothers had reached the bottom of the stairs before peering around the corner to see that the young servant had already picked himself up off the floor. However, rather than standing there in frightened shock, as the King had expected, or at very least clutching teary-eyed where one of the vicious sounding blows had landed, the manservant was hard at work. He was evidently more concerned about the glass vials that had fallen from his satchel and broken during the beating than with any injury he had taken.

Uther watched as the scowling servant took a cloth that had been in his bag, gave his head a shake of dismay and knelt down to begin meticulously gathering all of the shards that were scattered about the floor.

Uther had to admit to himself that he was no longer at all inclined to give to the boy to Sir Derrick and Lord Reginald. He had well understood what they intended for Merlin, and although what a master required of his servants was nobody's business except his own, Uther did not condone forcing such duties on unwilling participants. He was also surprised at how reluctant he was to put Arthur's servant into such a situation, but then again there was evidence beginning to rack up that Merlin was more … just _more_ than Uther had given him credit for.

No, the King decided that he would continue with his original plan and observe Merlin for a few more days to see if he still wanted to reassign the boy. He still had doubts about the servant's apparent laziness and incompetence that needed to be set aside.

The King watched the boy for a few more moments. If Uther _did_ decide that Merlin was not fit to be Arthur's manservant, he wondered if perhaps Lord Branok may like to take him on. It would be a good opportunity to have the boy sent away without anyone questioning his judgement, and Uther could not prevent a small smile from escaping when he pictured the looks on Sir Derrick and Lord Reginald's faces if he were to make the offer to his friend in their hearing.

Knowing that the boy would soon be finished cleaning up the broken glass and would likely be heading to his son's chambers right afterward, Uther decided he'd best continue on his own way there. He was curious to see what the servant would say to Arthur about his misadventure with the brothers and imagined that the boy would give his son quite an earful of complaints. However, Uther admitted that in this case it would be quite justified.

* * *

"Hello Father," said Arthur looking up when Uther entered his chambers a short time later. "I did not expect to see you until dinner." The Prince had just returned to his rooms from a training session. He was standing beside the bench near his fireplace removing his gauntlets and setting them beside the helmet and mace he had just deposited there. He ran his fingers through his sweaty hair, brushing it out of his eyes before crossing over to where a towel hung over his changing screen. Pulling it down and wiping the perspiration from his face, he turned to face his father. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked.

The King stifled his smile of pride at his son, replacing it with his usual stern countenance. After all, it would not do to stoke the young man's vanity. Arthur was a fine knight and took both his duties as a soldier and as a leader of men very seriously. Uther knew that his son was spending every spare moment in preparing himself and his men for the coming tournament, and the King was certain that the victor would emerge from within the group, with Arthur himself being the most likely to merit the prize. The Prince was also proving his intelligence and understanding of the art of ruling a kingdom, hence the reason for Uther's late afternoon visit.

"I wanted to let you know firsthand that you were right about Lord Jarod's statements, Arthur," the King said, pulling out a rolled parchment that he had brought with him and holding it out to his son. "I had the clerk look into it, and you were also right about it being a simple mistake," he added. "Apparently, the same order had been entered into the ledger twice; once by the clerk and again later in the same day by the person who filled in for him when he took ill for a few days last month."

Arthur nodded and took the scroll, unrolling it so he could see the adjusted numbers. "That is a relief," he said. "I would have hated to think Lord Jarod was trying to deceive us."

"I would like you to verify that this explains the mismatch you found, and also to update your annotations," Uther said once the Prince had looked back up from his scrutiny of the report. "And while you are doing so, I will take a look at your antechamber," he added. "I think it is time we considered turning it into a private office for you, now that you are taking a more active role in administering the Kingdom."

"What, right now?" Arthur asked giving his father a dubious look.

Uther simply raised his eyebrows in a response that would have made Gaius proud, and smiled when his son sighed and headed over toward his desk.

"I suppose there is enough time before I must get dressed for dinner," Arthur agreed reluctantly, settling himself in his chair and picking up his quill. "Although Merlin could arrive at any moment."

Uther did not bother to make any comment, instead leaving his son to his work and hurrying - no, striding purposefully - towards the antechamber. Once inside, he shook his head and gave a rather un-kinglike chuckle. He had _indeed_ hurried, and could not deny that he had only decided to inspect the room rather than simply leaving the reports with Arthur because he realized it gave him a perfect place to hide and indulge in more eavesdropping. He also admitted to himself that he had absolutely no idea why he was so keen to hear the young servant's upcoming interactions with his son, although Uther reasoned that what he learned _would_ be relevant to proving or disproving the whole question about the laziness.

The King had barely found himself a position from which he could not only hear, but see the activities in the main room when he heard his son greet the young servant.

* * *

"Merlin, I was not sure if you would be back in time to help me get ready for dinner," Arthur called out to the young man who had just entered the room.

Merlin stopped for a moment and smiled at Arthur, oblivious to the King who watched his every move through the crack in the doorway. "It did not take Gaius and me as long as we'd expected to see to Lord Branok," he explained. "And since I knew you were expecting me to be late anyway, I offered to take care of Gaius' deliveries for him. He had a lot more bottles than usual sitting there and I did not think you would mind." Merlin frowned and looked up at Arthur. "You don't, do you?" he asked uncertainly.

Arthur laughed, "Mind that you helped, Gaius?" he asked. "No, of course not. But now that you are here, I would like you to pour me a bath if you think we will have time."

Merlin crossed the room, set his bag down near the fireplace and turned back towards the Prince again. "Yes, I think we need to _make_ the time," he said, with a critical glare at Arthur's disheveled and muddy state which was belied by the twinkle in his eye. " _Because,_ after the good impression you made waving around swords and other weapon-y things this morning, it would not do to have you going to dinner looking like _that_."

"Merlin, that could _almost_ be taken as a compliment," Arthur said and Uther could practically hear the grin on his face. "I _think."_

"Oh, I'm sorry about that, I won't let it happen again," answered the servant with a chuckle, as he joined Arthur beside the desk. "And don't worry about the time," he said more seriously. "I ran into George on the way over here and he is already on the way to fetch the bathwater."

Merlin gave a smile as he remembered the diligent servant's eagerness at the opportunity to do something for his Prince, and guessed that George would happily have brought the water a handful at a time if it had been asked.

"Good," said Arthur with some relief. "I'm just finishing up some changes to a report for my father, but I will be finished with it by the time you have everything set out for me."

Merlin started to turn away, but stopped and slowly turned back towards the Prince. "Arthur…" he began hesitantly. "Those brothers…"

From inside the antechamber Uther shifted slightly, cocking his head to better hear what the boy said, certain that it would be the flood of complaints he had been expecting.

"I … heard them talking," Merlin said. "You need to be careful, I think they intend to cheat during the tournament, though I do not know what they have in mind."

"Ah, well that would not surprise me in the least," answered Arthur, putting down his quill and turning in his chair to face his servant. "The knight ... Darren?"

"Sir _Derrick_ ," Merlin offered, unable to hide a shudder at the name.

Arthur noticed the reaction and frowned in concern, though Merlin did not notice. " _Derrick,"_ the Prince corrected himself. "I definitely would not put it past him."

"And, I know that you can't really go to the King about it or anything, since he would not take my word over theirs, so…" Merlin paused and took a couple of deep breaths before forcing himself to continue. "When I, uh…, ran into them in the hallway just before coming over here, they wanted me to do something for them but I told them I couldn't since I had to come here."

Merlin scrunched his eyes closed, probably without realizing he did so, and took another breath before blurting out in a rush, "But if you need me to do it, I will go to their room and use that as an excuse to try and find out more about what they are up to…if you want…" He opened his eyes and looked intently at the Prince, trying but failing to hide his reluctance to do anything of the sort.

Arthur studied his servant. He had not missed the slight tremor in Merlin's hands as he had made his offer, nor how pale the young man had become. The Prince had a good idea of what it was the visiting nobles had wanted with the servant.

"No, Merlin," Arthur answered softly. "I would rather have you here attending to me. To be honest, I'm not very worried about it. I don't think either of them have the intelligence to cause a real threat, and I also do not think Sir Derrick can possibly make it past the first round or two." Arthur smiled at Merlin's obvious relief. "But I do thank you for bringing their plans to my attention. I'll keep an eye open for any type of foul play from them," he continued.

Merlin's smile of relief spread to his entire body. His shoulders relaxed, the lines of worry around his mouth and eyes faded away and his breathing, which had quickened due to his anxiety in spite of his best efforts to hide it, returned to normal. "Well then, I'll leave you to your report and get back to work," he said.

Just as his servant was about to turn away, Arthur noticed that there was a bloodied cloth tied around the index finger of his right hand. "Merlin, what have you done to yourself now?" the Prince cried out.

Merlin looked down sharply at the injury as though he'd forgotten about it. "Oh, you know me," he answered with a smile. "Dropped my satchel in the hall and broke a few vials of medicine. I cut myself as I was cleaning it up," he explained, slowly dropping his hand and manoeuvering it just behind his back to hide it from sight. "Gaius is going to _kill_ me!"

"Maybe so, but I think you need to get him to take a look at it before he does," Arthur said with a frown. Judging by the amount of blood, the gash must have been quite deep. "I don't want you bleeding all over my floor," he added to cover his concern.

Merlin chuckled. "It's not that bad," he said, hesitantly bringing the wrapped digit back up for a closer look, as though to convince himself as much as Arthur. "But yeah, I promise I will show him. I won't be able to tie on a proper bandage by myself anyway," he said.

"And _when_ do you intend to do that?" Arthur asked as Merlin dropped his hand and once again tried to head towards the wardrobe.

Merlin turned back toward him. "When?" he asked, a little confused by the Prince's insistence.

Arthur rolled his eyes.

"I was going to do it after I'd gotten you ready for dinner," Merlin said, and Uther could hear amused fondness in the boy's voice. "I need to grab a bite to eat before I attend you there, anyway. After all, with all of the toasts there will surely be in honour of your knightly prowess, and with you wanting to bask in the glory of your victories of this morning and milk it for all it is worth, it's certain to be a late night." The servant's smile broadened. "I would not want to become light headed from hunger and have people think I am swooning like a girl at your magnificence."

* * *

Out of sight in Arthur's antechamber, Uther could barely suppress a snicker of amusement. The boy's pride in his master was unmistakable, and yet the words were witty, and judging by Arthur's snort of laughter, appreciated and even encouraged. The King could also sense that this type of teasing would help to keep his son's ego in check; an old problem that Uther suddenly realized had started to improve only since Merlin had become his manservant.

Uther's brow furrowed. The dark-haired servant had given him a lot more to think about. The boy had not only held back any details of his mistreatment by Lord Reginald and his brother, but had even, astonishingly, offered to put himself at a risk in order to protect Arthur from them. That was an act both brave and loyal, and reminded the King how he had come to hire the boy in the first place. Uther found himself uncharacteristically glad that his son had not taken Merlin up on his suggestion to attend to them in their chambers.

There was also yet more evidence that contradicted the boy's reputation for laziness. He certainly had not been idle that afternoon in any case, and had seemingly volunteered for _additional_ duties, so it was not just a matter of grudgingly doing as he'd been asked either.

Uther reflected for a few moments on the question of 'competence'. It was impossible to deny that the boy was clumsy; _that_ had long been apparent. But the King could not recall seeing other signs that the servant provided his son with anything less than adequate or even _excellent_ care. Merlin seemed to be thinking ahead to ensure Arthur had what he needed in a timely fashion, and obviously took pride in ensuring his Master's wellbeing.

The King scratched his head in thought. He was starting to understand why Arthur wanted to keep the boy around. Uther scowled. Even what he had considered to be unacceptable cheekiness and sass from the servant seemed to serve a purpose. He should probably make a show of reminding the young men that such familiarity must be kept private, but, the King decided, he no longer wished to forbid it.

Uther shifted his concentration back to the young men in the main chambers, chuckling inwardly at the realization that he had just decided Merlin's fate. Even though the King was not entirely convinced that the boy was not inclined to laziness on occasion, the servant's job was quite safe for the time being.

* * *

"And _I_ would not want you swooning like a girl either," Arthur said in response to his servant's teasing. "So, to prevent the likelihood of that being due to _blood loss_ , you are excused to take care of that finger," he said lightly, although there was no mistaking that it was a command. "Now."

Merlin held his gaze for a moment, but realized that Arthur was quite serious. The servant scowled and gave a slight shake of his head. "I … alright, I will go, but just give me a few moments to at _least_ set out your clothes for the evening and put up your changing screen," he insisted.

"Merlin…" Arthur warned, but his servant was already hurrying towards the wardrobe. "But you _will_ let George fill that bath," the Prince continued. "And I can take care of the rest by myself."

"I'm not so sure about that," came the cheeky answer, muffled from somewhere inside Arthur's collection of dress shirts. It was followed quickly by a showy sigh, "But, yes. I promise."

* * *

Uther straightened and let out a relieved breath, glad that the servant would be shortly be leaving. The King had learned what he needed to know about the boy, and had been looking for an excuse to leave the room before Arthur had a chance to get suspicious.

After all, a King could only spend _so_ long in an antechamber assessing its fitness as an office. His eyes shot open with a pang of alarm as he realized that he had not actually _done_ that yet, and he urgently began looking around the room. No doubt Arthur would be expecting his findings and so he'd best make sure he had a recommendation ready.

* * *

A/N

I was almost mean enough to leave this chapter with a cliffhanger at the point where Reginald told Merlin to pack, but Uther insisted that I go a bit further to show that he is not all bad.


	11. Hard-Working - Part 5

A/N A million thanks to LyricalSinger for the help and great advice when I decided that I didn't like my original ending, scrapped almost the whole chapter and rewrote it. I hope you like the results.

* * *

 **Hard-Working - Part 5**

Uther sat at his usual place at the head of the large table in the Great Hall, enjoying a tankard of the rich, strong mead that one of the visiting Lords had brought from his lands for the King's appraisal. He swallowed in appreciation as he looked around the room. There were more visitors in the hall this night than in previous days, and the room was already full of noisy babble, even though not many of the guests to be seated at the head table had taken their places yet. It was rare that nobody was vying for Uther's attention, and he was content for the opportunity to sit and simply watch people arrive.

Arthur was standing near the window with his own cup of mead, deep in conversation with a group of the knights he had bested that morning. His son was smiling while one of the knights in the group demonstrated some sort of swordsmanship manoeuvre. He jabbed his right arm out and proceeded to twirl in a circle before stopping and rolling his eyes, causing the rest of the men to burst out in laughter. Uther smiled, glad that his son had won not only the respect of the men he had fought that morning but also their friendship, based on the easy camaraderie that was emanating from the group.

Letting his gaze wander further to the right, the King frowned. That camaraderie obviously did not include the brothers Reginald and Derrick. Uther could see them standing near the wall, eyes narrowed and watching Arthur and the rest of the knights in the group with open disdain. From time to time they looked over towards the door, and the King guessed that they were waiting for his son's manservant to arrive. Uther had noticed that Merlin was not yet with Arthur, although he was not surprised since he knew the boy had had some things to attend to before he would be able to come to the feast.

* * *

A slight commotion at the door caught Uther's attention and the King smiled as he watched Sir Robert entering the room to back slaps and whistles from many of his peers. The young man looked tired and a little bit befuddled, but the grin on his face as he responded to their teasing comments spoke clearly of his happiness.

Gradually Robert made his way through the well-wishers to where Uther was seated and made the customary bow of respect to the King.

"I understand congratulations are in order," Uther said to the smiling knight after acknowledging the greeting. "And that you have made a fine contribution to the future defenses of Camelot," he added, trying to appear serious but unable to prevent the quirking of his lips.

Sir Robert laughed, seeing right through him. "Yes indeed, Sire. In fact, I have arranged a fitting for armour next week," he countered.

"No doubt," Uther responded with a chuckle. "Ah, well, that day will come sooner than you ever would expect," he added a touch wistfully, glancing briefly over towards where Arthur was still mingling with the guests.

"And how is the Lady Miriam?" he asked, bringing his attention back to the knight.

"She is well, Sire," said Sir Robert. "She was fussing over the babes when I left; could not even spare me as much as a glance." He leaned in and lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Some of her friends were coming over to dote upon our newborn sons, and I think she was glad to get rid of me so they could talk unhindered about bonnets and cradles and such."

Uther nodded, "You are better off here then," he said. "Assuredly. Where we can instead discuss knightly subjects such as the merits of various new advances in the design of mail helmets and the quality of our local bedroll fabricator's wares for use when out on campaign."

Sir Robert's eyes widened in surprise at hearing the King _jesting_ and the young knight began to laugh.

Uther smiled at the reaction. "In truth, I am happy to hear that Miriam is recovered enough to receive guests so soon after her confinement," he continued. "And that you are also back to your usual good humour. Rumour has it that you reduced one of your sons' nursemaids to tears with a complaint about … a wrinkle in the swaddling … I think it was?"

"Ah… _that_ ," answered Sir Robert in obvious embarrassment. "Yes, I have since decided, based on the … rather loud … advice of my wife that it would be better for all concerned if I leave the care of the children to her and to our very capable nurses."

Uther smirked, "So there is some truth to it then?"

" Yes. I'm not afraid to admit it, and I now know with complete _certainty_ that walking into a battle where all of the odds are stacked against a victory and where a painful death is all but assured, is much, _much_ less fearsome than waiting for the birth of one's children," said Sir Robert. "And unfortunately, both during the wait and in its immediate aftermath, I may have been somewhat … less reasonable … than is my usual nature."

"Ah," was all Uther managed to choke out before giving into his laughter.

Sir Robert looked around the room, stopping when his eyes fell on Arthur, who was still talking with a group of knights. "Which reminds me; I must both thank and apologize to your son's manservant."

" His _manservant_?" Uther asked, furrowing his brow with confusion. "Why ever do you need to talk to _him_ of all people?"

Sir Robert returned his regard to the King, having confirmed that the young servant was not yet present. "Merlin was with us all night acting on behalf of the Court Physician, Sire," he explained. "And I could not have asked for a more proficient and reassuring presence."

Uther nodded with sudden understanding. He knew that the servant was Gaius' ward and often helped out the elderly man, though he had not guessed that the young man's responsibilities included anything more than making and delivering medicines. He was _very_ surprised to learn that the physician trusted the young man with something as important as tending to the birth of a highly-placed nobleman's heirs.

The King pursed his lips in thought for a moment, deciding that it also explained Merlin's interactions with Lord Branok. The boy must have been acting in some sort of medical capacity when Uther had watched through Arthur's window.

He frowned as he had yet another realization. "Wait a moment, he stayed with you for the _entire_ _night_?" he asked, recalling how he had found the servant asleep in his son's chambers just that morning.

"Oh yes," Sir Robert nodded emphatically. "And as I said, I was not my usual generous and magnanimous self, but rather than becoming angry at me, Merlin kept both his patience and his smile right through to morning, and all the while taking excellent care of my wife and my sons."

The knight paused for a moment to think about the events of the previous night. "I did not even see him leave," he mused, "though the midwife told me that the sun was well up by the time he did so." He sighed, shaking his head with guilt, "And then I missed him once again when he came by in the afternoon to make sure all was still well with my wife and the babes. He must find me ungrateful for his help."

"I doubt he would have thought much about it," replied Uther, not sure why Sir Robert would worry about such a thing. "It _is_ his job, after all - to serve." But the King admitted to himself that Merlin was proving much more competent and diligent than he had thought, and he supposed that some sort of acknowledgement of the exceptional service would not be out of order.

"However, if you feel you need to thank him, you will have an opportunity later on," Uther said much less grudgingly than he would have thought possible even half a day earlier. "I believe he is simply late, with my son's full knowledge and approval of course."

Uther looked towards his son only to notice that Arthur was looking back at him, or more correctly, at Sir Robert. "And if I am not mistaken, my son seems to be vying for your attention," he told the knight, cocking his head towards the Prince. "I imagine he wishes to know when your boys will be ready to be taken on as pages," he added with a chuckle.

Robert followed his gesture, and soon afterward was granted leave from the King so that he could head over to join the Prince.

* * *

Once he was alone again, Uther took another swallow of mead, emptying his cup and setting it down. After spotting Sir Leon at the next table, discussing something with Geoffrey of Monmouth, he waved off the servant who had jumped forward to refill the cup. Both men were laughing, piquing Uther's curiosity since neither was particularly known for his sense of humour.

Uther decided he would investigate; the mead had already caused a pleasant buzz and he found he was in the mood for a story. He stood and made his way over to the two men, who rose to their feet when they saw the King joining them.

"Sire, Sir Geoffrey was just telling me of the hobbies of his youth," said Sir Leon with a grin. "I would never have taken him for a fisherman!"

"Oh yes," said Uther with a laugh at the memory. "He used to disappear for days on end, in quest of some sort of gigantic … perch? Was it not, Geoffrey? … Something rare that Gaius used to use in his medicines, in any case. I well recall how you used to come back to Camelot looking as if you had fought in a battle!"

Geoffrey chuckled and nodded enthusiastically, "Just so, Sire," he said. "Young Leon and I were discussing that very beast. And it _was_ a battle to land one, or what would have been the sport in it?"

"I was telling Geoffrey how I spotted one two days ago," added Sir Leon.

"I know you did, my boy; and very timely it was too," said the archivist, "Since yesterday I was in dire need of one of those medicines the King mentioned, and Gaius had some freshly made. Else no doubt I would be abed tonight instead of here with a good goblet of mead in my hand and waiting for some of cook's excellent stuffed pheasant."

Uther began laughing only to pause. "Wait, the fish was caught yesterday?" he asked, frowning at his sudden suspicion. "Sir Leon, did you catch it?"

Leon grinned, "No, I am _no_ fisherman, Sire," he answered. "I believe Gaius was going to send Merlin to do it," he said, adding "Arthur's manservant?" as he was unsure if the King would know the boy's name.

"Is that so?" asked Uther softly, almost to himself, his suspicion confirmed.

"Yes, Gaius told me the boy caught five _,"_ Geoffrey enthused. " _Five!_ I am surprised he is able to even stand today… though perhaps I am mistaken after all," the archivist said, scanning the room until he confirmed that Arthur was without his manservant. "I do not see him here."

Sir Leon shook his head, "No, he is about," said the knight. "I have seen him several times this afternoon. I believe he has been kept quite busy with all of the visitors in the castle." Leon also began to scan the room, stopping when he looked towards the door. "Ah, here he is now," he said as Merlin came into view, escorting Lord Branok into the room.

* * *

Uther watched as the servant helped his old friend over to the head table where he was to be seated beside the King's currently vacant chair. It was a slow and careful process, with Merlin scrutinizing every step that Lord Branok took and offering a steadying arm at the least sign of discomfort from the Lord.

Once the pair finally reached the table, Merlin took Lord Branok's crutches and leaned them securely against a nearby serving table before helping the nobleman get settled into his seat. After ensuring that the Lord was comfortable, the servant rushed to fetch him a goblet of wine, setting it on the table in front of him.

The two spoke for a few more moments before Lord Branok laughed and made a shooing motion, obviously meaning for Merlin to go and join Arthur.

The young servant smiled and Uther watched him fuss a little more; making a slight adjustment to the angle of the man's chair and moving the wine goblet a little bit closer to him, before he gave Lord Branok a last nod of respect and began to make his way over to where Arthur and Sir Robert were waiting for him.

* * *

"Ah, I should have guessed that Gaius would have him helping out Lord Branok," said Sir Leon, who still stood near Uther.

The King was surprised to notice that the Senior Knight and Sir Geoffrey were both apparently as captivated with the boy's activities, mundane as they were, as he was. He shook his head in bafflement, wondering how it had come about that watching a servant had become the evening's before-dinner entertainment.

Looking around the room he saw that they were not the only ones indulging themselves, either. Lord Branok also continued to watch the boy from where he sat, and from the other side of the hall the two brothers had spotted Merlin's entrance and begun to smirk.

Merlin seemed to have noticed this last, as his step faltered when he caught sight of the two, and he averted his eyes and quickened his pace towards Arthur just slightly.

Even the Steward, who stood attentively near the door from where the dinner would soon be brought in, looked at the boy with what certainly seemed to be pride.

* * *

"Merlin, it's about time you arrived," said Arthur as the servant reached him, allowing Merlin to put Sir Derrick and Lord Reginald out of his mind. "I thought perhaps Gaius had had to amputate your hand or something and I was beginning to reconcile myself to the thought that you would take _twice_ as long with your chores as you do now."

Merlin snorted, but otherwise completely ignored Arthur in favour of greeting Sir Robert along with Lady Morgana and Gwen, who had come over to congratulate the young knight on his new sons.

"Now, now, _Mer_ lin" said Arthur, "I insist on seeing the evidence that you let Gaius attend to your hand. I need to be sure you are capable of serving me in the manner to which I am accustomed," he added as pompously as he could, "… though in retrospect, since _that_ is abysmal, even if you _are_ one-handed I probably would not notice much of a change."

"Yes, Sire," said Merlin, rolling his eyes as he held up his freshly bandaged finger for inspection. "I even asked Gaius to stitch it in the shape of a dragon so it would match the embroidery on your cloak," he continued, completely unaware of the amused chuckle that the watching King quickly supressed. "I know you can't see it under the bandages, but at least _you_ will know just how seriously I take my job."

Uther missed any retort that his son might have made, since just then the Steward announced that everyone should take their seats. He did notice how Arthur clapped his hand fondly on the servant's shoulder and steered the young man towards the table.

* * *

"Branok, I am pleased to see you here tonight," the King said to his friend once he had taken his place at the head of the table. "I admit to being surprised when I received the message that you felt able to attend."

The noble shifted in his own seat and gave a slight wince which quickly gave way to a broad smile at Uther. "I am rather surprised myself," he admitted. "Especially when I consider my state not half a day ago." Lord Branok turned and dipped his head in greeting to Lady Morgana who had just taken her seat to his other side. "But your Physician and his young ward took excellent care of me, and so here I am," he said.

Morgana smiled back warmly at the man. The noble had been a friend of Gorlois', visiting her father's home frequently during her childhood. He had always acted as a kindly uncle towards her, and so held a cherished place in her heart. "I am glad to see you well," she said. "I was so worried when I heard of your accident. It was very lucky you were near to Camelot when it happened."

Lord Branok took her hand and gave it a kind pat. "Yes, it was lucky indeed," he said reassuringly before turning back to the King. "And I must thank you for moving my accommodations to the lower floor, Uther," he said. "I'm sure it was not easy for your Steward to find a place for me at the last moment, but it was much appreciated."

Uther frowned slightly. "Indeed…" he said slowly, the inflection making it unclear if the word was a meant to be a statement or a question. "I must admit… it was my understanding that he would only be able to arrange the change _tomorrow_. I am pleased to hear that I was mistaken."

"Oh, that was Merlin's doing," Morgana put in, cocking her head towards the other side of the table. The young servant was pouring a glass of wine for Arthur, showing a flash of dimples at something the Prince must have said to him. "Before you arrived this afternoon I heard him telling the Steward that he would clear out one of the rooms down the corridor from here."

"Well he has spoiled me since I have arrived, that is certain," Lord Branok chuckled, watching the young man. "Your son is fortunate to have him as a manservant," he added to Uther.

"Yes, he has been full of surprises," answered Uther shooting a glance at Merlin before returning to his conversation with his friend.

* * *

For a while, the King forgot about the young servant, concentrating instead on his meal and on catching up with Lord Branok. The noble from Gawant had not been in Camelot for over two years as he had been busy with his duties to Lord Godwyn, his King, so they had a lot to discuss.

However, as the dinner progressed, Uther could not fail to notice the predicament of Arthur's manservant. As was usual at this type of dinner, the young man was attending not only his son, but also the other nobles seated on that side of the head table. This included Sirs Leon, Robert and Geoffrey, but also Sir Derrick and Lord Reginald, who had somehow managed to convince the Steward to switch their seats so that they were closer to Arthur, and therefore Merlin, than they should have been.

The brothers called on the servant _far_ more often than should have been necessary. At one point Uther suspected they had even pinched the boy ... inappropriately … given the look of wide-eyed startlement on his face, followed by his glare of anger and his hurrying back to his place behind Arthur.

After that, Merlin had done his best to stay out of arms' reach of the men, though it was not always possible. When he was unsuccessful, there _always_ seemed to be some type of mishap; a slosh of wine, a dropped napkin, a piece of bread falling to the floor. The brothers then discreetly, or so they thought, glanced at the Uther to make sure he was noticing.

It was so obvious that they were intentionally making the young manservant look bad in front of the King that it was almost laughable. And even though Uther would normally never pay attention to a servant or care about his or her feelings, even he could tell that the torment, for that's the only thing it could be called, was having its effect on the boy, judging by his increasing pallor and the growing trembling in his hands.

Merlin also glanced anxiously towards the King once or twice, swallowing nervously when he saw Uther looking back at him.

Arthur was not oblivious to what the men were doing either, and even Leon and Lord Branok had noticed that something was not quite right. All three men glowered over at the brothers with increasing frequency, though naturally the two idiots were completely ignorant of the spectacle they were making of themselves.

Uther knew the two were setting the manservant up so they could make a case to the King, confident that Uther would agree wholeheartedly to whatever their 'proposal' was for getting the young man under their power. He suspected that they would make their final move soon, and he found himself looking forward to it. It would be very satisfying to put them in their place. Uther only hoped that they did whatever they had planned before either Arthur took matters into his own hands or Merlin made a mistake that would cause the other guests to support the brothers.

* * *

Just when things had escalated far enough that Uther had reluctantly decided he would need to call Sir Derrick and Lord Reginald out on their behaviour, Sir Derrick signaled to Merlin that the servant should bring him over a heaping helping of meat, gesturing that the boy should also put a ludicrous amount of sauce on it.

Uther put off his plans for the moment and instead watched from the corner of his eye to see what the knight was up to. Sure enough, just as Merlin was about to set the plate down, Lord Reginald raised his elbow, making it seem accidental of course, jostling the servant and knocking the plate right out of his hand. Sir Derrick made sure to angle himself so that the falling food would miss his lap and instead it headed on towards the floor, landing right on his boots.

The knight gave a completely contrived, loud and entirely unnecessary shout and leapt to his feet, causing all conversation in the room to come to a complete stop as everyone in the room tried to see what had caused the commotion.

* * *

With Merlin looking aghast at the mess on the floor, Uther heard a snort from a few seats away. "Sire, perhaps now would be a good time to act on our offer regarding this servant," Lord Reginald said, as reasonably as the man could muster. "I am sure you must be as embarrassed of his incompetence, laziness and clumsiness, and most especially of his disrespect, as we are on your behalf," he added.

Beside his brother, the King saw Sir Derrick staring at the dark-haired boy and licking his lips in anticipation, probably not realizing the telling lewdness of his reaction.

"Disrespect, you say?" Uther asked dangerously, although the grin that Derrick shared with his brother showed that they had no idea that the tone was aimed at them.

"Yes, Sire," Lord Reginald answered, believing he finally had the opening he had been looking for to clinch his argument. "Blatant. For example, just this afternoon the boy refused to obey my direct and reasonable orders."

He looked apologetically over at Arthur for a moment, "Forgive me, Sire, I had intended to bring it to your attention privately, but due to the circumstances I thought I had better not wait to tell the King of the situation." He turned back to Uther and went on sadly, "Yes, and earlier today my brother," he nodded towards Sir Derrick, "had to have words with him on exactly the subject of respecting his betters."

Uther noticed Merlin's eyes snap up, catching Lord Reginald's in dismay before dropping his gaze back to the floor with a sigh of resignation. The King glanced towards Arthur whose fists were clenched in outrage. The Prince had risen half out of his seat and looked like he was about to offer an argument in his servant's defence, but Uther held up his hand, silently ordering his son to keep his peace.

Scowling, the King turned back to Lord Reginald. "Is this true?" he asked, "and if it is, why would you still wish to have the boy in your employ? Perhaps I should simply sack him and send him back to the town he came from, so that nobody in Camelot need suffer from his deficiencies."

The two brothers shared a look of fear that Merlin may be put out of their reach. "Perhaps that would be prudent, Sire," answered Lord Reginald after a moment, "and I admit that I do have some misgivings about going forward with my offer to take him off your hands, but I think Derrick and I may have an idea which will please us all."

Uther indicated that the nobleman should continue, while also giving Arthur a piercing glare telling him to hold his tongue. The King was rather surprised that Arthur obeyed the silent order, but perhaps his son had a suspicion of what Uther was up to. Either that or, more likely, he was intending to wait and take care of his grievances out of the public eye, just as the brothers _should_ have done. Although the King was quite looking forward to putting the noblemen in their place, really, a feast with the King was not place to be discussing the foibles of _servants._

"Sire, I had been on the verge of rescinding my offer to hire the boy due to the offensive behaviour I have observed during the past day, culminating in the outrageous service we have all witnessed this evening, when I remembered how young Prince Arthur is," said Lord Reginald. "Perhaps he simply has not realized the extent to which his servant's behaviour is frowned upon in our noble circles." The man then had the gall to wave his hands in a gesture that was meant to include all of the assembled dinner guests, assuming that they would of course agree with him. "Or perhaps he has not yet had the servant long enough to teach him properly," he added.

Uther had to hide the quirk of his lips when he caught Arthur's justified outrage at the comment. He hoped his son could keep his anger in check for a while longer, though Uther had to admit he himself may not have had the ability were he in Arthur's place.

He also heard whispering around the hall, and knew that the vast majority of people present did not like to hear their Prince belittled, even over something as trivial as keeping a servant in check. Besides, as the King had come to learn over the last day, Merlin was also well respected in his own right.

For this reason, Uther was certain that Lord Reginald's words would in fact have caused him to lose the very support he had hoped to gain with them. Judging by the glares that Sirs Robert and Leon, in particular, were aiming at the visitors, Uther also guessed that he would not be the only one in the hall who would be pleased once he finally responded to the nobles as he'd been planning.

"Speak plainly of your intentions, Lord Reginald," the King commanded, trying to appear bored with the discussion, while needing to bring the noble quickly to his point. "I wish to return my attentions to my dinner."

"Yes, Sire," the Lord said, oblivious of the growing hostility against him. "Sir Derrick and I had cause to discuss the situation once our shock at the servant's disobedience earlier in the afternoon had worn off." He paused and nodded his head to acknowledge his brother who shook his head as though still dumbfounded by the event. "And we both felt that it was our duty to Arthur and yourself to revise our original offer somewhat."

The brothers had indeed discussed Merlin once they had reached their quarters that afternoon. The young man was not the compliant serving boy that they had expected – one who would have wordlessly accepted any order from his King, including a reassignment. Instead, rather excitingly, the servant had been rebellious and intelligent as well as exceeding loyal to Arthur. It did mean, however, that 'taking' him, almost as though he were a slave, would never work. They had needed to find an argument that would ensure that Merlin would come with them of his own will.

Lord Reginald paused, presumably waiting for the King to congratulate him for his magnanimous gesture, but when Uther only narrowed his eyes, the Lord hurried on. "We propose to take the boy with us for a period of time… simply to train him. Although it will be a hardship for us, perhaps away from the distractions of Camelot he will find it easier to understand his proper position and he can shortly be returned to the Prince with a much-improved attitude along with new skills which Arthur will surely come to appreciate." The brothers had reasoned that the only plan which Merlin would not be able to refuse would be one which made coming with them a condition for his continuing to serve the Prince.

"And you are doing this purely out of your sense of duty," Uther stated, not missing how Sir Derrick was now openly leering at the boy, nor how Merlin was beginning to look quite ill.

"Of course, Sire," said Lord Reginald. "It would be an honour to have trained the Prince's manservant, and we do have much experience in correcting disobedient behaviour. With us, in no time I am sure that his disrespect, laziness and incompetence will be things of the past."

"That is very generous of you," Uther said. "I realize that the boy has a tendency towards clumsiness, and of speaking out when it may not seem appropriate." He glanced over at Merlin, who was watching him wide-eyed with horror, obviously worried that he would soon be handed over to the now-grinning noblemen.

Uther scowled as though remembering something distasteful. "He does also tend to treat orders as … somewhat optional," he added, causing the servant to gulp anxiously.

"However," he shouted, in order to cut off Arthur who had risen to his feet ready to argue on behalf of his servant.

He fixed a stare on his son, and once Arthur had sunk back into his seat, the King leaned forward, and lowered his voice. "However," he repeated, "as for the rest of your allegations – disrespect, incompetence, laziness; my own information, Lord Reginald, tells a somewhat different story."

Merlin and Arthur shared uncertain glances, not sure what the King meant. It almost sounded like Uther was taking Merlin's side in the matter.

Lord Reginald had quickly come to the same conclusion. "Sire, has he made some complaint to you?" the noble spluttered. "If so, I must object. After all, his word cannot be trusted; he is but a servant after all."

Uther rose to his feet. "Do you doubt _my_ word, Sir Reginald, or my ability to see what is right in front of my eyes?" he asked.

Sir Reginald seemed to shrink under the King's anger. "No, Sire! No, of course not," he answered. "I just…," but he could think of no argument, and could only gape as the King leaned forward, his hands on the table.

"Let us first talk of disrespect," Uther said. "I have watched all evening as you have been bothering the young man and monopolizing his time. _He_ has taken much trouble not to let your selfishness hamper the service he is providing to everyone else, while _you_ have seemed quite oblivious about the disruption you have been causing to your peers."

The King paused for a moment, enjoying how both Sir Derrick and Lord Reginald had become pale, and were practically cowering where they sat. He also inwardly smiled at the gapes of disbelief that had appeared on the faces of both Arthur and his servant, although he acknowledged that they had reason to be surprised that he was showing favour to the boy above nobles from his court.

"And regarding your insinuations as to his incompetence and laziness," Uther continued, knowing that the young men would be even more astonished at what he said next, "I have personally witnessed you hindering the boy in his important work for the court physician. Work that, as many in this Hall will attest, he does diligently and often to the point of exhaustion. You also obstructed him in his duties for my son by ordering him to attend to unsanctioned and trivial activities. Or am I wrong that your complaint of his disobedience is related to what I saw in the knight's quarters this afternoon?" Uther's glare intensified and he was glad to see that both of the brothers were now trembling in fear.

Lord Reginald was unable to answer, leaving Sir Derrick to gulp and offer a guilty, "No, Sire," not daring to contradict the King or offer any type of excuse.

"So, your proposal is rejected," said Uther, straightening from where he still leaned on the table and pushing himself to his full height. "In fact, it is _your_ presence that I find an embarrassment to this Court, not the boy's, and so I would … _respectfully…_ request that you leave this hall," he continued, although nobody in the room would have taken the words as giving the brothers any type of choice.

" _Now!"_ the King shouted when the disgraced noblemen continued to sit in shock. "You are no longer welcome in my presence."

As Sir Derrick and Lord Reginald rose and hesitantly stepped away from the table, Uther spoke once more. "I will not banish you from the city nor from the coming tournament, since this matter is in fact rather insignificant," he announced.

The brothers shook off some of their shock and began to smile with relief, probably thinking that they would easily be able to put the fiasco behind them.

Uther was happy to remove that hope though. "However, should you decide to participate, bear in mind that among your allegations and evidence, you have given offence to my son," he reminded them, "and so naturally he will have an added incentive should he face you during the competition."

Sir Derrick looked over at Arthur, and the Prince's unfriendly glare left no doubt as to the truth of the King's statement.

Many of the other guests, especially the ones who had witnessed Sir Derrick's cowardly withdrawal from the 'demonstration' that morning, were openly smiling and snickering at the brothers' humiliation.

Lord Reginald and Sir Derrick took a last look around the room, and seeing no friendly faces, quickly headed to the doors and their escape from the hall.

* * *

Merlin was very happy when the dinner ended relatively early. He was still shaken by Lord Reginald's and Sir Derrick's proposal to take him away from Camelot, and could hardly believe that the King had not only rejected it, but had so strongly defended him against the brothers' allegations.

He trailed along behind Arthur, all the fatigue of the past day along with the stress of the evening catching up to him at once. It was not all that surprising that he did not notice Arthur stopping shortly after entering his chambers, and the young servant tripped, apparently on air, and dropped the empty goblet he had been carrying, in order to avoid running into the Prince.

"Perhaps I should ask Father to reconsider Lord Reginald's offer after all," said Arthur with a laugh. "A year or three of training may be just what you, and _I,_ need to turn you into an efficient and … well, … basically, George.

"Don't even joke about it," said Merlin with a shudder, as he scrambled to pick up the goblet. With a cheeky grin he added, "You may get what you asked for, but then what would you do without my subtle reminders about your prattishness?"

Arthur studied him for a moment. "Perhaps you are right," he answered. "I would also _sorely_ miss the look on your face whenever I send you to muck out the horses."

"Hey, I _practice_ that look," Merlin said, "And I will gladly give it to you at any time just for the asking. No need to send me to the stables, I promise."

Arthur was looking for another rejoinder when Uther unexpectedly entered the chambers, smiling broadly.

"Father, what can I do for you?" Arthur asked, uncertain as to why the King would be visiting so late in the evening, and why he was in such a good mood. "I was just about to get ready for bed."

"I will not be here for very long," Uther answered. "But before your servant left for the night, I wished … to commend him for his attention to Lord Branok today." The King turned slightly so he could speak to Merlin directly, even giving a small nod of approval to the young man. "He spoke very highly of the care he was given. As did Sir Robert regarding his wife and newborn heirs."

Merlin's eyes widened in shock at being complimented. "Thank you, Sire," he stammered.

"It has also come to my attention that I was overly quick in passing judgement when I found you asleep in my son's room this morning," the King continued, before turning back to the Prince. "Arthur, I think it would be in order to allow your servant the day off tomorrow to rest. We would not wish his service to be substandard after all, and this period of recuperation will allow him to better perform his duties the next day."

Arthur smiled at Merlin, who stood stock-still with astonishment at having received not only a vacation but also what amounted to an _apology_ , from the King. "Yes, Father, I think I should be able to make do without him for that long," the Prince answered.

"Good, then that is settled," said Uther, "Although, young man if you are able to stop in on Lord Branok from time to time tomorrow, I am sure he would appreciate it."

Merlin nodded, and then finally found his voice again. "Yes, Sire. I promise I will… I had already intended to do so," he said, reddening with embarrassment as he suddenly wondered if he may have seemed to be boasting. "Thank you, Sire," he added, unsure of what else he could say.

Uther gave another small smile to the servant and began to turn towards the door. "Oh, I almost forgot," he said, turning back around to face the Prince once more. "Arthur, I wanted to let you know that Sir Derrick and Lord Reginald have sent word that they have just received an urgent message from home and that regretfully, Sir Derrick must withdraw from the tournament."

Arthur laughed, and soon the King joined him in a rare shared moment of amusement; Merlin could not help his own snort of laughter as he watched them.

"I am sure he must be fairly _weeping_ with disappointment," said Arthur. "Perhaps I should go to his room to comfort him."

"Ah, well, that would have been very generous of you, but I am afraid it will not be possible," said Uther, still smiling broadly. "I have been told that they have already left the city."

"Is that so?" asked Arthur, still laughing. "That is too bad, as I would have liked a chance to test his skills."

Uther paused, and glanced over at Merlin who still stood, goblet in hand and taking in the very strange spectacle of the King and his son bantering. "But, we _have_ seen them tested tonight," Uther could not resist adding. "Sir Derrick did make a wonderful manoeuvre to avoid having a full plate of stuffed pheasant land in his lap."

Arthur had to wipe the tears out of his eyes.

"It was a shame it had to land on his feet though," Uther continued, pursing his lips as though in thought and adding with a sad sigh and a shake of his head, "he just did not seem the type to like to get his shiny boots dirty."

* * *

Uther turned and exited the chambers, still chuckling at the sound of the goblet that had fallen straight out of Merlin's hands as soon as the boy had heard the comment.

* * *

That's it for 'hard-working' Merlin. I kinda liked the idea of Merlin and Arthur getting surprised by the King

I hope you enjoyed the story, and thanks to everyone who followed and favourited. Special thanks to those who were able to take the time to leave a review. These are always much appreciated, and I hope you enjoyed the teasers I've sent your way when I could – it's the best way I could think of to thank you :)

Anyway – I've already got the stories for Merlin's two remaining 'skills' underway, but I think I will take a little break before I complete them. I want first to get back to a whumpy hurt/comfort story that I've had half-written for a good two years, and see if I can finish that one off before I get back to this.


End file.
